PS 3545 
.E86 N6 


1924 


Copy 2 


































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“*• ^ ^ \/ ;. 















NOT SO FAST 

By CONRAD WESTERVELT 



S*gMW- W9®$K3% 284P Wot, Wb 


f$| Golden Days 

A COBftedy of youth, in four acts, by Sidney Toler and 
M&ritm Sho^t. 7 males, 10 females. Three interior 
scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2% hours. 

"Golden Days” is a play with all the charm of youth. 
It enjoyed a run of sixteen weeks in Chicago with 
Patricia Oollinge in the leading role, and was then 
brought to the Gaiety Theatre, New York, with Helen 
Hayes m the part of “Mary Anne.” Price, 75 cents. 

Come Out of the Kitchen 

A charming comedy in 3 acts, adapted by A. E. Thomas 
from the story of the same name by Alice Duer Miller. 6 
males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes, 
modern. Plays hours. 

“Conae Out of the Kitchen,” with Ruth Chatterton in 
the leading role, made a notable success on its produc¬ 
tion by Henry Miller at the Cohan Theatre, New York. 
It was also a great success at the Strand Theatre, Lon¬ 
don. A most ingenious and entertaining comedy, and 
we strongly recommend it for amateur production. 

Price, 75 cents 

His Majesty Bunker Bean 

A farcical comedy ip four acts. By Lee Wilson Dodd, 
from the novel by Harry Leon Wilson. 12 males, 6 
females. Four interior scenes. Costumes, modern, Plays 
2 Vs hours. Those who have laughed immoderately at 
Harry Leon Wilson’s story will be greatly amused by 
the play, which tells the story of a cowed and cred¬ 
ulous youth who became kingly when he was tricked 
into believing himself a reincarnation of Napoleon. “H'is 
Majesty Bunker Bean,” with Taylor Holmes in the title 
role,, was brought to the Astor Theatre, Hew York, 
after a run of 25 weeks in Chicago. A delightful and 
wholesome farce comedy with no dull moments. 

Price, 75 eents 

A Full House 

A farcical comedy in three acts. By Fred Jackson. 
7 males, 7 females. One interior scene. Modern cos¬ 
tumes. Pla.vs 2% hours. This newest and funniest of 
all farces was written by Fred Jackson,, the' well-known 
short story writer, and - is backed up by the prestige 
of an impressive New York success and the promise of 
unlimited fun presented in the most attractive form. 
A cleverer farce has not been seen for many a long 
day. “A Full House” is a house full of laughs 
| 1 y*y ... V.V/V Price, 75 cents 

(The Aljovf Aye Subject to Royalty When Produced) 

SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City 
New rand Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed 
Free on Request 



/ 

NOT SO FAST Jst 

or 

The Blimp 


A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS 


BY 

CONRAD WESTERVELT 

14 


J 


Copyright, 1922, by G. C. Westervelt (Under the Title of 
“The Blimp”) 

Copyright, 1924, by Samuel French 1 


CAUTION.—Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned 
that “NOT SO FAST,” being fully protected under the 
copyright laws of the United States of America, Great 
Britain, the Dominion of Canada, and other countries of 
the world, is subject to a royalty, and anyone present- \ 

ing the play without the consent of the author or his 
authorized agents will be liable to the penalties by law 
provided. Applications for the amateur acting rights 
must be made to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, 

New York, N. Y. 


New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 
Publisher 

28-30 West 38th Street 


London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
26 Southampton Street 
STRAND 


CcAm 


fj 




The following is a copy of the playbill of the first per¬ 
formance of “NOT SO FAST” at the Morosco Theatre, 
New York, week beginning Monday evening, June 11, 1923. 


JOHN HENRY MEARS 

Presents 

TAYLOR HOLMES 

In 

“NOT SO FAST” 

An American Comedy of Today 
By CONRAD WESTERVELT 
Stage direction by Leon Gordon 
THE CAST 

(In the order in which they appear) 

p obin Standish . James Dyrenforth 

■ester Vane . Theodore Westman, Jr. 

s . Beatrice Bradley 

.. Marian Mears 

.. Ann Davis 

Acton . Leon Gordon 

kson Blake . Mr. Holmes 

Eay j. jiuL . Jeane Greene 


©CLD 6 7085 y 











CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY 

Henry Watterson Blake 
Mary Standish 
Rose Standish 
Robin Standish 

Arabella, a maid in the Standish home . 
Sylvester Vane 
James Barton Acton 
Fay Fothergill, Acton's stenographer 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. A living room 
Act II. An office. 

Act III. Same as Act /. 

Place: New York City. 


3 



NOT SO FAST 

ACT I 


Time: The Present. 

At the Standish apartment. The living room 
of an expensive apartment, in a fashionable part 
of New York City. The room is a corner one 
with large triple windows at back. There are 
entrances from the other rooms of the apartment 
at right and left back and from the outer hall 
at the right front. 

The apartment is tastefully and richly fur¬ 
nished. Door at right is opened and Robin 
Standish and Sylvester Vane enter. They 
are in golf clothes, and carry suitcases and over¬ 
coats. 

Each is nineteen. 

Robin. Now watch 'em fall on your neck. (Walks 
toward right door — calls) Within there! Your 
perfectly good brother awaits your embrace. (Goes 
to left. After a pause) The prodigal has returned 
—and he’s brought the fatted calf with him. Gosh, 
nobody home, and I had my face all adjusted for a 
couple of sisterly kisses. 

Sylvester. Good! You catch ’em and I’ll split 
with you. 

Robin. Well, Syl, as head of the Standish family, 
I bid you welcome. 

5 


6 


NOT SO FAST 


Sylvester. Thanks, Robin, old dear, but I thought 
Miss Mary was head of the family? 

Robin. Yes, but I’m the head greeter. Gosh, it’s 
good to be back! Yale is all right, but four months 
on a stretch is plenty. 

Sylvester. Well, it sure does give you a yearn¬ 
ing for the white lights. 

(Arabella enters at right.) 

Arabella. Oh, it’s you, Mr. Robin. (They shake 
hands.) 

Robin. Hello, sweetness and light! Where are 
my sisters? 

Arabella. They’re out, sir. 

Robin. (To Sylvester) There’s a welcome 
home for you! I had it all decided to spread my¬ 
self a bit on your account. Say, Arabella, if I kissed 
you would you think it the exuberance of youth or 
just fresh? 

Arabella. It’s not going to happen, sir, so why 
discuss it ? 

Sylvester. Is that how much they think of you ? 

Robin. Well, Arabella is awfully particular. 
She’s got family behind her, one of her ancestors 
was a night watchman in a bird seed factory. 

Arabella. A bank, sir. 

Robin. When Sis and Rose get back, Arabella, 
tell ’em we’ve gone. Not finding the restraining in¬ 
fluences of home, we’ve beat it for the great wide- 
open spaces of Broadway. 

Sylvester. Where men are men. 

Robin. And women gold miners. 

Arabella. I was to tell you not to go, sir. 

Robin. What! 

Arabella. Yes, sir. Miss Standish wants you 
here because your guardians are coming in soon. 

Robin. Both of them? 


NOT 


SO FAST 


7 

Arabella. Yes, sir; the one from Kentucky is in 
town and you’re to meet him. (Goes out.) 

Robin. There you are; that’s what I get for being 
an orphan. One week at home after four months 
of Yale and I’ve got to put in an afternoon being 
looked over by a couple of guardians. 

Sylvester. I hope I won’t be in the way. 

Robin. You’ll like Jim Acton. He’s a prince. If 
we work it right, we can get a lot of parties out of 
him. I’ll bet he knows the leader of every jazz or¬ 
chestra in New York. 

Sylvester. Well—that’s a start. (The door to 
hall opens and Rose enters.) 

Rose. Oh, Robin! (She and Robin embrace en¬ 
thusiastically.) 

Robin. Rose! How are you? Rose, this is Syl¬ 
vester Vane, my roommate. Get together and get 
acquainted and have a wonderful time. 

Rose. Oh, I’m glad to know you, Mr. Vane. 

Robin. Syl’s solid ivory, of course, Rose; but 
you’ll like him. 

Sylvester. A roommate with any brains would 
make Rob feel lonesome. 

Rose. I knew you the instant I saw you. Robin 
sent me a picture of you. 

Sylvester. (Eagerly) You’ve got a picture of 
me? 

Rose. I didn’t say that exactly. I said that Robin 
sent me a picture of you. 

Sylvester. I understand. You put it in the 
trash. 

Rose. Maybe I did— and maybe I didn’t. 

Robin. Rose, I’ve got to spend a pleasant after¬ 
noon being looked over by our guardians. 

Rose. Maybe they’re not insane with joy them¬ 
selves. 

Robin. It’s not my idea of fun. 

Ros*. I’m crazy to see the one from Kentucky. 


8 NOT SO FAST 

Robin. Haven’t you? When did he come to 
town? 

Rose. Just this morning. He’s been with Jim 
all day, talking business. . | 

Robin. Well, come on, Syl; well park these suit¬ 
cases, and you pretend to shave and I’ll slick my 
hair down. 

Rose. And wash behind your ears, Sonny. 

Sylvester. Ha! she knows you. 

Robin. Oh, shut up! (They go out.) 

(Rose removes her hat, picks up a small dictionary 
and sits on the davenport. Turning the pages 
to a place marked by her finger. The door opens 
and Mary enters.) 

Mary. Oh, hello, Rose. I’m glad you’re back. 
Jim and Mr. Blake will be here soon. 

Rose. I’m getting ready for them. (Waves dic¬ 
tionary over head,) 

Mary. What’s the dictionary got to do with it ? 

Rose. When our senior guardian arrives pres¬ 
ently I want some appropriate words to welcome him 
with. What do you think of ex-ec-u-tor, and ad- 
min-i-stra-tor ? 

Mary. Naturally, you would pick the long ones. 

Rose. As the philosophers say: “Take care of 
the big ones and the little ones will take care of 
themselves.” 

Mary. (Looking at watch) Gracious, is it that 
late? 

Rose. Sister, can’t you keep Jimmy Acton off 
business this afternoon? Ever since he and his 
friends, the Nebros, started talking Mexican invest¬ 
ments, I’ve heard nothing else. 

Mary. Nothing is more important. If you and 
Robin are to have all the things I’ve planned for you 
we must have more income. 


NOT SO FAST 


9 


Rose. I know, sweetheart, you are wonderful as 
head of the family, but you should think of yourself 
sometimes, not just of Robin and me. 

Mary. I do, dear. 

Rose. No, you don’t, and you and Jim shouldn’t 
have to talk business all the time. 

Mary. All right, dear. I guess you’re right. 
But what about Rob? Hasn’t he been heard of yet? 

Rose. Oh, I’m sorry. Your baby boy is in his 
room. 

Mary. ' Rose! Why didn’t you tell me? (Run¬ 
ning toward door at right.) 

Rose. I plumb forgot. Oh, and he brought a boy 
home with him. 

Mary. To stay? 

Rose. He brought a bag with him. 

Mary. Without letting me know? 

Rose. See for yourself. (As Mary goes out.) 
He’s got red hair! (A second later, soliloquizing) 
And blue eyes. (Sits with dictionary.) 

(A telephone rings sharply. There are two of these 
in the room. The one now ringing is a smalt 
wall affair set near the door at left. It connects 
with the exchange downstairs. The other, 
standing on a lady’s desk, is hidden in some 
modern absurdity of tissue and silk. The wall 
telephone rings again. Rose half turns, shrugs 
a little, and shows indifference. Arabella en¬ 
ters from back. Arabella is pert and pretty, 
and is in conventional maid’s attire.) 

Arabella. Hello. . . . Oh, he’s on his way up ? 
. . . It’s Mr. Acton, Miss Rose. 

Rose. Only Mr. Acton? 

Arabella. Yes, Miss Rose. Shall I let him in? 

Rose. Yes, Arabella. (Nestles back down into 
chair.) But don’t let him know I’m in the room. 


10 


NOT SO FAST 

Arabella. No tellin' what you might hear "bout 
yourself, Miss Rose. 

Rose. That will be all right. Anything he might 
say about me isn’t anything to what I think of him. 

(Buzzer at entrance door is sounded. Arabella 
goes to door, and admits James Acton. Acton, 
or Jim, as he is usually called, wishes to he, and 
is, a typical young New Yorker. About twenty- 
seven, slim, tall and graceful, he is of striking 
though not inspiring good looks. He enters with 
an air of more than confidence. He carries 
himself very well, and moves swiftly.) 

Jim. (Offstage) Hello, Arabella! Still want to 
be a movie queen ? 

Arabella. (Entering) I’ll let Miss Standish 
know you’re here, Mr. Acton. (Goes toward door.) 

Jim. Do, but don’t mention it to the “Infant Ter¬ 
rible.” It’s not necessary at all. 

Arabella. No, sir, it ain’t. (Goes out.) 

(Jim watches her, smiling quizzically. He moves 
about the room, still unconscious of Rose. He 
hums the latest song hit. Comes to front, rocks 
slightly on his heels, then his toes, and looks 
down at his expensively shod feet.) 

Rose. (After watching Jim with an impish and 
none too respectful smile) Oh, just up from the 
roaring forties, Jazz B.? 

Jim. Hul-lo! Greetings, little one! Didn’t dream 
you were about. 

Rose. I sensed that, Guardian dear. 

Jim. (With a teasing air) I trust that’s not a note 
of sarcasm, Rose o’ my heart? 

Rose. Don’t be silly, Jim. I’m just about as 
close to your heart as the eighteenth amendment. 


NOT SO FAST 


n 


Jim. Ouch! 

Rose. When is Mr. Blake to be here? 

Jim. (Looking at zvatch) Half an hour or so. 

Rose. Why hasn’t he been to see us before? 

Jim. Probably never interested enough to come 
this far from Kentucky. (Sits on sofa.) 

Rose. I don’t believe it; and I do hope he’s nice; 
I would like at least one guardian I can look up to. 

Jim. I suppose I don’t count. 

Rose. I count you but I don’t add you in. 

Jim. Isn’t that nice. 

Rose. You see, Jazz, with your father it was 
different. During the last year of 'his life he and I 
were awful chummy, and I used to sympathize with 
him when he told me how wild you were and over 
the way your brain works or doesn’t work, and- 

Jim. Yes, will you please shut up! (Rises.) 

Rose. Of course, but you understand, don’t you? 

Jim. Rather. And all on account of a guardian 
you’ve never seen. 

(Mary enters.) 

Mary. Hello, Jim. Robin is home and has brought 
a strange boy with him. 

Jim. That’s perfectly normal. You’re not a real 
man until you can bring a fellow home with you. 

Mary. But I wanted to see something of him 

myself, and now, with this boy to entertain - 

He’s always been so considerate and good before. 

Jim. Please, don’t ever let him hear you call him 
good. Call him a thief, a murderer, a profligate or 
even a bootlegger, but good, never. 

Mary. Jim! What horrid advice. 

Jim. Maybe so, but sound. If you disregard it 
you may get yourself disliked. You know I am only 
trying to help. Why, they both adore you, just as 
I do. (Attempts to embrace her.) 



12 


NOT SO FAST 


Mary. Now, Jim! 

Jim. All right. (Walks away.) 

Mary. Where is Mr. Blake? 

Jim. Had to go to his hotel to spruce up a bit. 
Says he wants to look pretty for you and Rose. 

Mary. That’s encouraging. 

Jim. I’m glad he did, because I can have a word 
or two with you. You know, this fellow Blake is 
the slowest mover I ever saw. Why your wise old 
dad ever picked out such an inert executor is be¬ 
yond me. He looks and acts like something asleep 
in the sun. 

Mary. Oh, Jim! 

Jim. Well, dear, I wrote him and explained care¬ 
fully everything about our proposed Mexican invest¬ 
ment, and told him all he’d have to do would be to 
sign the power of attorney I sent him and return it 
to me immediately. Instead, he does nothing for a 
week, then takes a slow train for New York. 

Mary. That makes it splendid, as you and he can 
work together now. 

Rose. I knew it. Business, business. As far as 
I’m concerned, they can tow Mexico out somewhere 
and sink it. 

Jim. Well, you don’t have to listen. 

Rose. That’s your brightest remark yet. I think 
I’ll take another look at that red-headed freshman 
Robin brought home for me. (Goes out to right.) 

Jim. All day long I’ve hammered him with facts, 
but I’m not sure they’ve registered. 

Mary. He couldn’t help seeing what a wonder¬ 
ful business man you are. 

Jim. Oh, that! You see, Mary, if you were 
twenty-five you could control your third of the es¬ 
tate, and it would not be necessary to get Blake’s 
permission at all. 

Mary. But I’m not twenty-five, not for months. 

Jim. No, but if you were we could go right 


NOT SO FAST 


13 

ahead. Under your father’s will there’s another way 
to attain full legal power. Marriage. Marry me. 
Mary. Oh, Jim, again? 

Jim. Mary, if only I could make you see that by 
marrying—me, of course—then Blake couldn’t in¬ 
terfere with our plans. 

Mary. But why should he want to? 

Jim. But he might—and, besides, I love you, and 
I want you to be my wife. 

Mary. Dear Jim, it’s curious, but I just can’t 
feel that you love me like that. I know you care— 
I do for you. We’re bound to care. We’ve been 
together so very close as children,—your father 
was more than an executor, almost our second father. 
We are really sister and brother. 

Jim. That’s all very well for childhood, but it’s 
no good any more. I want you, and want you 
quickly. 

Mary. Well, I was never quick about anything. 
You’ll have to give me time to think it over, Jim. 

Jim. I’ve given you a couple of weeks,—and I’ve 
proposed on an average of at least eight times a day. 
Mary. Eight ? 

(Rose, Robin and Sylvester enter.) 

Robin. Hello, Jim. (They shake hands.) 

Jim. How are you, Robin? 

Robin. I’m all right, Jim, but I’m awfully wor¬ 
ried about the weather. Mr. Jim Acton —Mr. Syl¬ 
vester Vane. 

Jim. Not the Mr. Sylvester Vane? 

Robin. Yes, sir! The little red one. 

(Jim advances, and gravely, deferentially, shakes 
hands with Sylvester.) 


i 4 NOT SO FAST 

Jim. I am tremendously glad to meet you, Mr. 
Vane. 

Sylvester. Delighted, Mr. Acton, delighted. 

(Rose has remained in the background. An irresist¬ 
ible giggle now is heard. Sylvester and Jim 
both turn quickly. Sylvester looks hurt, while 
Jim moves rather slowly, for him, toward the 
offender, who lifts her chin defiantly.) 

Jim. Will you shut up? 

Robin. (Draws Sylvester a bit to one side, 
nudges him, and speaks in a whisper meant to be 
heard by all) Look here, Syl, if you want to see 
Who’s Who on Fifth, and What’s What on Broad¬ 
way, without a single When’s When north of Forty- 
second and west of Lexington Avenue, you just give 
Acton the tip that you’re willing to have him ride you 
about in his boat. (Jim pauses and looks around 
over his left shoulder with a laugh.) 

Jim. That registered! How about to-night at 
seven-thirty ? And what say the Royale ? 

Robin. Celestial! as Rosie loves to say. 

Mary. But, Robin, dear, not tonight! Your very 
first night at home after four long months away! 

Robin. Now, Sis, will you have a heart? (He 
goes to Mary, puts an arm about her, and begins to 
wheedle her.) You wouldn’t want to put your Robin 
in another cage when he’s just broke loose from one. 
Now would you? 

(Rose, still in the background, giggles loudly. All 
turn, a little startled. Robin makes a dash for 
her. The others watch. She eludes him, aided 
by Sylvester, who puts himself in Robin’s 
path, and finally sinks into the big wing chair. 
Sylvester comes to her, cmd finding a foot - 
stool, brings it close, (md sits upon it. Robin is 


NOT SO FAST 15 

restless. Mary and Jim take seats, and Mary 
starts in with the role of perfunctory hostess.) 

Jim. Well, they certainly made things nice and 
peaceful. 

Mary. Is this your first visit to New York, Mr. 
Vane? 

Robin. (Breaking in a hit rudely) No, sis, it 
isn’t, so don’t ask him how he likes it. Besides, I 
wrote you and Rose about him often enough. 

Mary. Oh, yes, I remember perfectly, now. Mr. 
Vane is from Kentucky ? 

Sylvester. Yes, near a village named Bowling 
Green. 

Mary. (Impulsively) Near Bowling Green! 
Why, that’s where Mr. Blake comes from. 

Sylvester. (In a loud whisper to Rose) You 
know I’d a whole lot rather stay at home this eve¬ 
ning ! 

Rose. At home ? Do you mean here ? 

Sylvester. Yes, here,—right here, in Robin’s 
home—with his—his—folks. 

Rose. It is possible I’m going to like you, Mr. 
Vane. 

Sylvester. Oh, do you think so? Then drop 
that silly Mr. Vane. Call me “Sillie,” for Sylvester, 
you know—that’s what they call me at school. 

Rose. Silly Vane, don’t take your name in vain, 
silly! Oh, wasn’t that awful! Quite Shakespearean. 

Sylvester. (Laughing immoderately) I think it 
was the wittiest thing I ever heard. Ha, ha! Ha, 
ha! Ha, ha! 

(Robin stops short in his restless prowlings to stare 
at him, and look disgusted.) 

Robin. (Gloomily) Oh, gosh! Bamum was 
right! (All laugh.) 


16 


NOT SO FAST 


Jim. Vane. 

Sylvester. Yes, Mr. Acton. 

(Jim and Mary lean forward a little, smiling.) 

Jim. When the paroxysm is over, I want to talk 
to you. 

Sylvester. It’s over now, but Miss Rose said 
something so witty. (Rises.) 

Robin. That’s the best thing she does. Especially 
when she’s got somebody near to bray when she does 
it. (Sits on stool at Rose’s feet.) 

Jim. Just a moment, please. Vane, we are ex¬ 
pecting a fellow-citizen of yours here any minute. 

Sylvester. From little Bowling Green? 

Jim. From there or thereabouts,— a sluggish, ir¬ 
rational creature named Blake, Henry Watterson 
Blake. 

Sylvester. Watt Blake in town and coming 
here ? 

Mary. Yes. He’s one of our guardians. Do you 
know him? 

Sylvester. I know him after a fashion. 

Jim. Do you know anything good about him? 

. Mary. Jim, don’t give too bad an impression of 
him. You see, Mr. Vane, father thought very highly 
of Mr. Blake. 

Rose. Father picked him for one of our guardians, 
and father was a wonderful judge of men. 

Jim. So you actually regard Blake as a guardian, 
though you have never met him ? 

Rose. A guardian! My guardian. My especial 
guardian. 

Sylvester. A guardian, and you’ve never seen 
him? 

# J IM - Oh, yes, I’ve seen him! He’s spent the en¬ 
tire day upsetting my office, talking and saying a lot 


NOT SO FAST 


1 7 

of ridiculous things with absolutely no meaning to 
them. 

Sylvester. I don’t think he’s awful bright—at 
least, I’m like Mr. Acton and can never make sense 
out of half the things he says. 

Rose. Maybe the trouble isn’t with him. 

Robin. Shut up. 

Mary. (Smiling) I’ve tried to raise them cor¬ 
rectly, Mr. Vane. 

Jim. Go ahead, Vane. 

Sylvester. Mother kinder likes him, but Dad 
doesn’t think he’s all there. 

Jim. Well, I can understand that. 

Sylvester. You see, Dad’s in real estate; and 
has been sore with him ever since he outbid him in 
an auction of an estate. Dad says that if Blake had 
any sense he’d have accepted his proposition and 
gone in with him, and they’d have bought it t.ogether 
for about half its value and divided the profits of 
the resale. 

Jim. And the dunce wouldn’t? 

Sylvester. No. Every time Dad bid he’d bid a 
thousand more, until Dad saw there’d be no profit in 
trying to resell, and let him have it. He has it yet, 
and never will get his money out of it. Dad says 
he’s got a one-cylinder mental motor and runs that 
in low. 

Jim. (Laughing loudly) That’s a corking simile. 

Sylvester. But Mother thinks he’s sentimental 
and wanted the place on that account. 

Mary. She may be right. 

Jim. Yes, but unfortunately business and senti¬ 
ment don’t mix. 

Sylvester. That’s what Dad says. He seems to 
have lots of money, though no one can figure out 
where it comes from. Every now and then Bowling 
Green hears he’s bought something queer, like a 
played-out mine or a broken-down railroad, and they 


18 NOT SO FAST 

get a good laugh out of it; but nobody ever hears of 
his selling. 

Jim. And this is the business genius, Mary, who 
must be consulted regarding my plans for increasing 
your income. 

Rose. Everyone can’t be the Boy Wizard of Wall 
Street. 

Robin. Be yourself! 

Mary. But, Mr. Vane, Mr. Blake is a gentleman ? 

Sylvester. Oh, yes, of course, he’s a gentleman. 

Jim. There’s no doubt about his being a gentle¬ 
man. But just the same, he’ll give you a good laugh. 
(Chuckling with enjoyment of what he has in mind.) 
Wait ’till you meet him! He is a sketch! You 
could never guess what I call him. 

Robin. What is it, Jim? 

Jim. (Smarting with enjoyment) The Blimp! 

Mary. Why, Jim, what—? 

Jim. Why, you know, Mary, one of those little 
noisy comic airships, which go around steaming and 
puffing, butting in here and there with no very good 
sense of direction—don’t you see? The Blimp. 

Mary, Sylvester, Rose and Robin. (One after 
another, crescendo) Blimp! (They laugh under¬ 
standing!ly.) 

(Wall telephone rings. Robin starts over to answer 

it.) 

Mary. “The Blimp?” Oh, yes, blimps are what 
they called those gas-filled airships. 

Jim. He doesn’t look like one, but he’s limp and 
slow and sluggish and acts like one. 

Sylvester. He does remind you of one. 

Jim. And wait until you hear him! He must be 
filled with gas, too! 

Robin. Who? Oh, Mr. Blake? All right, wait 
a minute. It’s “The Blimp.” 


NOT SO FAST 


19 


Jim. Have him start up his engines and run up. 

Robin. Tell him to throw out a couple of sand¬ 
bags and sail right up. (Hangs up receiver.) 

Jim. Now wait, Mary, just wait. 

Mary. (Disturbed) I don’t know how to receive 
him. After just talking about him this way I feel 
terribly guilty. 

Jim. Oh, that’s all right, dear. Leave it to me. 

Mary. But father must have had his reasons for 
appointing him. 

Rose. You bet. 

Mary. But if he should be what Jim says—and 
Mr. Vane did, too. 

Jim. Wait ’till you gaze upon him for yourselves. 
And wait until you hear the steady purr of his re¬ 
markable engine of conversation. (There is a loud 
tapping on the door.) 

Rose. (To Jim) You are about to have your 
wish. 

Jim. The “duffer” forgot the bell! (Moves 
toward the door, imitating the undulating movements 
of a “blimp.” Flings the door wide, and bows with 
exaggerated deference.) Entrez! Mote in! Blow 
through! And welcome to our city! (Blake enters 
slowly and placidly, and with confidence, a smile on 
his face. Jim announces, laughingly) May I pre¬ 
sent The Blimp? 

(Blake’s eyes narrow for a fraction of time, and 
then relax into a smile. Blake is five feet eight 
to five feet ten. In repose his face is serious 
and thoughtful and with lines of strength; but 
it is seldom in repose, and is usually adorned 
with a confiding, childlike, ingratiating smile. 
His speech contains a soft, slurring southern ac¬ 
cent in just a sufficient degree to indicate he is 


20 


NOT SO FAST 

a Southerner. His clothes are good and stylish, 
hut very quiet . He is thirty-two.) 

Blake. Bless my soul! “The Blimp!” . Durned 
if you’re not quick at thinkin’ up names—I just can’t 
imagine what you do it with- (Apparently con¬ 

fused.) I mean, how you do it. 

(Jim offers his hand and Blake hands him his hat, 
gloves and stick.) 

Mary. (Impulsively) I’m so relieved you do not 
really mind. 

Rosy. Do—you—know what a blimp is? 

Blake. Durin’ the war I was chaperone for a 
couple of the silly things. 

Robin. (Breaking in and addressing Blake) 
Gosh! Did you ever flyf 

Blake. Yes, but not often. I wanted to, but, 
you see, I ride with such a heavy hand, and the Army 
has a society for the prevention of cruelty of blimps. 
(Pausing contritely.) There I go, gabbin’ away like 
a friend of the family and not even introduced yet; 
from Kentucky, too, where we’re sticklers for such 
things. 

Jim. I beg your pardon. This is Mr. Blake, 
Miss- 

Blake. Oh, I think I can guess who each one is: 
This is Miss Mary, this is Rose, and this is Robin— 
Robin Redbreast. (Shakes hands with them. Sees 
Sylvester for the first time apparently.) Bless my 
soul—no, yes, it cannot be! It is! It’s little “Sillie” 
Vane of Bowlin’ Green! 

Sylvester. Excuse me—just from Yale. 

Blake. I beg your pardon, direct from Yale. I 
wish I were a freshman again. 

Robin. Well, come on, Syl. We’ll have to get 
out of these rompers before we attack the village. 



NOT SO FAST 


21 


Sylvester. (To Rose) Will you excuse me? 
(They give embarrassed, boy and girl bows to each 
other, Robin and Sylvester go out.) 

Mary. Knowing you were a hunting and fishing 
comrade of father’s, I thought that you would be 
very much older. 

Blake. Oh, no, just thirty-two. But where real 
friendship exists no one ever thinks of a difference in 
years. 

Jim. Pardon my bluntness, Blimp, old chap, but 
why, if you thought so much of Mr. Standish, have 
you never come near his heirs before ? 

Blake. I can explain. Let me say, first, that Mr. 
Standish was the finest man and the best fishin’ 
chum I ever knew. I often said to Oliver—yes, he 
made me call him that—“Oliver,” I said, “do you 
want a slow-movin’ old blimp”—(Looks at Jim quiz¬ 
zically) —“as executor?” “Sure thing,” said Oliver. 
“They can’t travel so fast.” Then he dragged me 
East to the Big Town, and made me have a talk with 
the real executor to be, Judge Acton. Well, after 
that talk, I saw that all I would have to do would be 
to sign the papers the Judge had prepared. 

Mary. Then you’ve been in New York without 
our meeting you ? 

Blake. The Standish brood have always seemed 
to be away somewhere. 

Jim. (Mildly sarcastic) It’s funny I never saw 

you. 

Blake. Your Dad, the Judge, seemed to think we 
could struggle along without interferin’ with your 
usual pursuits. (Rose snorts.) 

Jim. Oh, shut up! You know, Blimp, I don’t 
recall ever hearing your name mentioned in the same 
breath with work. 

Blake. Work’s apt to make one prominent, and 
I always sort of shun publicity. 

Jim. In “Who’s Who in Kentucky,” the only 


22 


NOT SO FAST 


things given you under “occupation” are “Gentle¬ 
man Farmer” and Chairman of the board of a theo¬ 
logical seminary, but according to Mr. Standish you 
spent most of your time playing bum bridge and rot¬ 
ten poker, but winnin’ just the same. 

Blake. (Apologetically) Yes, durned if I don’t, 
and reneging all the time, too. 

Jim. How do you account for it? 

Blake. Oh, I don’t know. I guess I must hold 
the cards; an’ I’m such an established blockhead no¬ 
body pays any attention to my playin’. 

Jim. Of course, with luck anybody can win. 

Blake. Sure, that’s it. I got to winnin’ so much 
I felt conscious about it. That started me on the 
unusual job of thinkin’—and what do you guess? 

Mary. (Eagerly) We couldn’t. 

Blake. In the next town to Bowlin’ Green there’s 
a theological seminary. One of those unhappy sects— 
don’t believe in anything pleasant—singin’, dancin’, 
card-playin’, drinkin’—nothing. For the last four 
years I’ve been devotin’ my bridge and poker win¬ 
ning to scholarships in that theological seminary, and 
I’ve got five scholarin’ there now. 

Rose. That’s a good idea. 

Blake. Thought maybe usin’ the money that way 
might humanize them a mite on account of its source. 

Jim. (Bored) Well, is that the end of the story? 

Blake. No, not quite. 

Jim. Oh, my Lord! 

Blake. What’s that? 

Jim. Nothing. 

Blake. That’s all right. Last commencement 
they asked me to deliver the address. I could only 
talk of the things I’m used to, so gave them one made 
up almost entirely of poker rules from Hoyle, and 
a maxim or two. 

Rose. (Delighted) Oh, Guardy Blimp! 

Mary. That was certainty original. 


NOT SO FAST ag 

Blake, Course I disguised ’em just a mite, but 
not much. Word for word I gave ’em the old gam¬ 
bler’s maxim: “Life ain’t in playin’ a good hand; 
it’s in playin’ a pore hand well.” They loved it. 
Then in the guise of talking about organization I ex¬ 
plained how three of a kind beat two pair, and how 
five members of the same family trained to pull to¬ 
gether—meanin’ a flush—are better than five people 
equally strong but without the family spirit—mean¬ 
in’ a straight. An’ so on. They liked it so much I 
considered there must be hope for ’em. So I built 
’em a dormitory. They let me lay the corner-stone, 
and in its cavity I put a box containin’ a little flask of 
bourbon, a stack of blue chips, a royal flush in hearts, 
a ballet slipper, a silk stockin’, and a pair of nigger 
golf-balls. If in the course of time those delightful 
influences don’t soften the atmosphere around that 
theological seminary, there just isn’t anything in im¬ 
agination. (They all laugh.) 

Jim. But now, Mary, can’t we take time for the 
business which brought the Blimp east? Really, 
Blimp, the thing’s important. 

Blake. (As if striving to face a tiresome and 
serious issue) Yes, you tried to pump it into my 
head all mornin’. Tryin’ so hard, and what you had 
to work on so soft. 

Jim. Well, then, listen, please, and only answer 
the questions I ask. (Slowly and clearly as if to a 
child) Have you brought the power of attorney with 
you? 

Blake. The one you sent me for signing which 
will let you carry out the deal with Negro Brothers ? 

Jim. It isn’t Negro. It’s N-e-b-r-o, Nebro, one 
of the most successful firms on the street. 

Blake. Kind of high-flyers, aren’t they? 

Jim. High-flying gives a wide vision. 

Blake. Doesn’t it often land the bird in the 
coop? 


24 


NOT SO FAST 

Jim. (Impatiently) Let’s not get on that. Did 
—you—bring—it with you ? 

Blake. Sure. You don’t think I came all the 
way from Kentucky without it. (Looks for it in 
pockets.) 

Jim. Then give it to me. 

Blake. Certainly. (After examining his pockets 
again) I forgot it again. It’s in my trunk. 

Jim. Oh, Lord! And where is your trunk? 

Blake. Durned if I know. Now where would a 
strange trunk unused to the ways of this big city be? 

Jim. Give me the check. We’ll send for it. 

Blake. Sure. We’ll send for the check- 

Jim. The trunk. 

Blake. The trunk, that is. (Goes through his 
pockets. A look of disappointment comes on his 
face.) I got my other suit on; changed just before 
cornin’ here. I wanted to look nice for the girls. 

(Acton throws up his hands in despair and annoy¬ 
ance. Rose watches the tableau , smiling know¬ 
ingly.) 

Jim. I’ll stop by your hotel with you. 

Blake. (Enthusiastically) Fine! (Disappoint¬ 
ed) No, that wouldn’t help. 

Jim. Why not? 

Blake. You couldn’t guess in a week. 

Jim. You’ve certainly spoke gospel! 

Blake. Just like a blunderin’ blimp, I sent the 
suit to the tailor. 

Jim. Oh, Lord, Lord! 

Blake. But it’s due back tomorrow morning. 

Mary. Oh, Mr. Blake, if you only knew how anx¬ 
ious I am to conclude this business. 

Blake. Do you suppose I thoroughly understand 
the deal? 

Mary. What is there to understand? We are 



NOT SO FAST 25 

given the opportunity of investing in a Mexican gold 
and silver property. 

Blake. And all I’ve got to do is give Jim a 
power of attorney so he can invest two hundred 
thousand dollars without worrying me? 

Jim. Exactly. 

Blake. Sounds to me like puttin’ a mighty big 
part of our ward’s money in one speculation. 

Jim. When the'Nebros let you in it’s an invest¬ 
ment, not speculation. 

Blake. Seems like a big part even for an invest¬ 
ment. 

Jim. (Significantly) Didn’t you ever hear the 
maxim by Mark Twain? “The fool says: Tut not 
all your eggs in one basket’; but the wise man says: 
Tut them in one basket and watch that basket.’ ” 

Blake. Maybe that was written about some other 
locality than Wall Street. Aren’t you likely down 
there to be watchin’your basket of eggs just as some 
wife, jealous of her husband’s blonde stenographer, 
chucks friend husband out of the window directly 
above where those eggs are parked? 

Jim. My Lord, Blimp, I’m trying to talk sense! 

Blake. I know, but you’ve got to admit that if 
you had your eggs in several baskets, all five or six 
feet apart, no unexpected aviator could squash- 

Jim. But I don’t want to discuss it. 

Blake. You brought up the eggs. 

Jim. I’m perfectly willing to drop it. 

Blake. Drop the eggs? 

Jim. What I really want to say is this: With your 
power of attorney in my hands I’ll settle the w r hole 
thing in an hour. 

Mary. And our income will start increasing im¬ 
mediately. 

Blake. You all certainly do move fast in this 
town. You’ve got an option for a week longer and 



26 


NOT SO FAST 


could use the time investigating but you want to ex¬ 
ercise it in an hour. 

Jim. But why waste the added income for a week ? 
And remember this, Blimp: nobody investigates the 
Nebros. It’s not necessary. 

Blake. (Guilelessly) They wouldn’t like it ? 

Jim. No, they wouldn’t. 

Blake. (Wistfully) Must be fine to gain con¬ 
fidence like that. 

Mary. If you will excuse me, I’ll see that Mr. 
Vane’s room is in order. (Blake bows. Rose fol¬ 
lows toward door as Mary goes.) Will you feel 
quite safe with Rose for a minute or two? 

Blake. I’ve got to get used to her sooner or later. 
I might as well start right in now. 

Rose. Fear not, Guardy. I’ll be extra gentle. 

Mary. That’s a promise, dear. (Goes out.) 

Rose. Yes, sister. (Rose rushes back girlishly 
to Blake.) 

Blake. You seem like a nice quiet little girl. 

Jim. Don’t be taken in. Your ward’s an imp. She 
should be kept in a bottle. 

Rose. How you would like me then, Jazz B.! 

Jim. I like you now, dear heart. 

Rose. But if I were kept in a bottle, you and I 
would be inseparable. 

Jim. You see what I mean, Blimp—too speedy for 
me, and I’m not considered a cripple. 

Rose. Compared to the real speed boats, Jazzie, 
you’re at anchor. 

Blake. You 11 just have to pardon me, but it’s 
been minutes since I’ve known what’s being talked 
about. 

Jim. Oh, you’ll get used to that with Rose. 

(Arabella enUri at right.) 


NOT SO FAST 27 

Arabella. Miss Standish wants your advice, Mr. 
Acton. 

Jim. I’ll go right away. Pardon me, Blimp. I’ll 
be right back. 

Blake. Take your time about hurryin’. (Acton 
goes out right.) 

Arabella. (Anxiously) And Miss Mary says, 
Miss Rose, to please remember Mr. Blake is your 
guardian. 

Rose. (Very soberly) My compliments to Miss 
Standish, Arabella, and suggest she dismiss abso¬ 
lutely all superfluous, apprehensive misgivings. 

(Arabella shakes her head ominously and goes out.) 

Blake. In Kentucky that would be fightin’ talk. 

Rose. Sister fears for your safety. 

Blake. So do I if you’re going to talk like that. 

Rose. (Holding up dictionary) My authority for 
every word I use. 

Blake. You mean something, honey, but don’t 
think I know what it is. 

Rose. I’m deliberately acquiring a vocabulary: in 
New York without one you’re a perfect non compos 
mentis. 

Blake. Pshaw, I don’t think you’re so much of 
a high brow. 

Rose. I’m not, Guardy: I’m just a maidenly little 
mutt. But why not fool the world ? 

Blake. Right, if one can. There’re too many 
wise men in the world, too many solemn old ganders 
who take themselves seriously. (Pauses.) They 
make me sick. 

Rose. And me, too, Guardy, and Jim Acton is 
one of them. What do you think of him? 

Blake. Why ask mtt, honey? Pm a perfect 
dunce. 


28 


NOT SO FAST 

Rose. (Drawing him down on davenport) You 
know the old joke, Guardy, “Nobody’s perfect” 

Blake. Then I’ll amend that answer: I’ll say 
I’m as near a perfect dunce as it’s possible for me 
to be. 

Rose. Come on, confide in your baby ward like 
the sweet old centipede’s golashes that you are. 

Blake. Is that the latest slang ? 

Rose. I just invented it. 

Blake. Wonderful! 

Rose. Now confess. 

Blake. Why, I’ve only just met him. ; 

Rose. Do you think father would have picked 
him for executor to succeed Judge Acton? 

Blake. I’d give a lot to be able to answer that 
question. If I could say “yes” I’d feel easier. 

Rose. Why, Guardy Blimp? 

Blake. Looks like you’re tryin’ to comer me, 
honey. Everything in confidence? (Rose nods in 
assent.) You see, Jim and I’ve got to handle your 
estate. And the two hundred thousand dollars he 
wants me to put in a Mexican mine is a big slice of 
your money, and losing it would be awful serious. 

Rose. Don’t do it. 

Blake. I can’t refuse point blank without rea¬ 
son. I don’t want to seem to doubt him in any way. ] 
He’s got a funny, kind of young, way of gettin’ sore > 
when I ask for information, as if it reflected on him. 
His brokers, the Nebros, give me statements and want 
me to take them as facts. Truth is, honey, I’m in 
difficulties. Now—what do you think of Jim 

Acton ? 

Rose. Would my opinion be of any value? 

Blake. Maybe not, honey; but try it on me. 

Rose. He can dance any dance in captivity. 

Blake. I wasn’t just exactly worry in’ about his 
dancin’. 

Rose. My guess would be that when God was 




NOT SO FAST 


29 

calling the names to hand out the gifts of judgment, 
Jazz B. didn’t answer. 

Blake. I’ll bet you answered when they called 
your name. 

Rose. What Jazz relies on is not his judgment, 
but on his friends, the Nebros. 

Blake. I think you’re wrong, there. Jimmy is a 
mighty clever young fellow. How about the Nebros ? 

Rose. Don’t know ’em, Guardy; but Jazz B. says 
they are wizards of finance. 

Blake. Could he mean lizards? 

Rose. He won’t do business through anyone else. 

Blake. Well, anyway, I’m doin’ a little private 
inquirin’ as to their ability. 

Rose. And Jazz B. doesn’t know? 

Blake. I’m sort of investigatin’ Jim, too, child. 
Friends of mine around here tell me Jim’s awful 
sweet on Miss Mary. 

Rose. He likes her; but Mary keeps her thoughts 
to herself and I don’t know what she thinks. 

Blake. If they do get married and Miss Mary 
wanted him to handle things, I’d have mighty little 
left to do with your money. If Jim made mistakes 
with it, you’d pretty soon have to give up this nice 
place and the things you’ve always been used to. I 
know what would happen to me then! Your dad’s 
look of friendship and confidence at our last hand¬ 
shake would be my life-long reproach. 

Rose. You must not let Jim handle our money. 

Blake. Maybe he can do it all right, honey. 
That’s what I’m tryin’ to find out in my blunderin’ 
way without any hurt feelin’s. 

Rose. You’ll have your hands full, Guardy. 
Jim’s mighty determined, or stubborn, and whenever 
he wants to do anything he just hammers and ham¬ 
mers. 

Blake. He’s been hammerin’ me for ten days. 


3 © NOT SO FAST 

Rose. Won’t your power of attorney let him do 

what he wants ? 

Blake. Yes— but has he got it yet? 

Rose. Oh, you’re the kind of Guardy to have. 

Blake. If I can prevent, nobody’s going to gam¬ 
ble with your capital, not while— (Thumping his 
heart )—this old motor motes at all, but it’s going to 
take me a few days to get the information I need, 
and I can see, unless you stick by me in my blunder¬ 
in’, that my unpopularity is going to be unanimous. 

Rose. I’ll stick by you, Guardy. 

Blake. And try to see that Miss Mary doesn’t 
go to thinkin’ too harshly of me, will you ? 

Rose. She’s a saint, Guardy. 

Blake. Well, you could hardly expect me to 
have much success with a saint. 

Rose. But there’s enough devil in her to keep the 
saint from palling. 

Blake. Well, that’s better; you sure had me 
scared there for a minute. 

Rose. She’s human and a twenty-four carat dim¬ 
ple, Guardy. 

Blake. ^ I’m hoping that she’ll think me such an 
idiot she’ll feel sorry for me. That’s my only 
chance. 

Rose. Chance, Guardy? 

Blake. Here, now, don’t pay too much attention 
to what I say. 

Rose. Oh, then all your foolishness isn’t as¬ 
sumed ? 

(Mary, Jim, Robin and Sylvester enter at right. 
Robin and Sylvester are in very stylish clothes. 
Robin crosses at once to door at right front , but 
Sylvester comes down to Rose.) 

Sylvester. Miss Rose, please come with us. 

Rose. I don’t think I want to. 


NOT SO FAST 


3i 


Sylvester. (Httrt and draining back) Oh, I see. 
If Rose won’t go, Robin, what’s the use of our go¬ 
ing? 

Robin. (Sarcastically) Don’t cry, little boy. I’ll 
take you to the Aquarium—anything to make you 
feel at home. 

Rose. Oh, all right. I’ll go with you. Call a 
taxi. (Goes out left.) 

Jim. I’ll go now. There seems no use talking 
business any longer. 

Mary. Wait for tea, Jim. 

Jim. I’m sorry, dear, but I require something 
much stronger than tea. Go ahead. (Robin and 
Sylvester go out.) Coming, Blimp? 

Blake. Not if I can get invited for tea. 

Mary. Of course you are invited. 

Blake. I won’t be going then, Speedy. 

Jim. Speedy? 

Blake. Sure, Blimpy Blake and Speedy Jim— 
fellow conspirators. 

Jim. See here, Blake. I wish I knew some way 
to make you take serious things seriously. How¬ 
ever, I may find a way. Good-bye. 

(Acton starts for door at right, and then goes out.) 

Blake. Good-bye. 

(Arabella enters with a tea-wagon, places it and 
then goes out.) 

Mary. I’m fearfully behind the times. Almost 
everyone I know has a favorite bootlegger, but I can 
offer you nothing but tea. (Mary serves tea.) 

Blake. Bootlegging seems to be the third or 
fourth largest industry around here. (Laughs.) I 
wonder what the boys in Bowlin’ Green would say 


32 


NOT SO FAST 


if they saw me doin' this? Back in that enchanted 
village it’s ’long about second mint julep time. 

Mary. Then you’re not a tea-drinker? 

Blake. Well, yes, I am. I’m mighty fond of it 
and of— (Indicating the items of food) —it’s danger¬ 
ous accompaniments. I’m lucky in not being one of 
these people who watch their weight. (Mary holds 
up a lump of sugar; Blake nods in acquiescence.) 
One hundred and fifty calories. (She holds up cream 
pitcher; he nods.) Two hundred calories. If I ran 
to waist-lines and things like that, think what I’d 
miss— (Indicating tea biscuits , etc.) —two hundred, 
four hundred—they just hang around in the shadows 
waitin’ to spring on you, but instead of gettin’ pan¬ 
icky like so many of my fat acquaintances, I open 
my mouth and say, “J um P> friend.” (They laugh.) 

(Rose enters like a whirlwind. She is ready for the 
street.) 

Rose. (Pausing just at the door to hall) Got an¬ 
other word for the day, Guardy. 

Blake. Shoot, Gridley! 

Rose. It’s suscept-i-bil-ity. It’s the same thing 
that happens to a nine-pin—they all fall. You’d 
better look out. (Dashes out.) 

Mary. (Laughing) Rose tries awfully hard not 
to flap, but she goes right on flapping just the same. 

Blake. Is that flapping? 

Mary. That’s flapping. 

Blake. Well, I like it. 

Mary. I am afraid you will find the manners and 
customs of our young people up here very startling. 

Blake. I don’t startle so awful easy, Miss Mary, 
and I like young animals—of every kind. I like ’em 
so well I don’t care much what they do—long as it’s 
wholesome. 


NOT SO FAST 


33 

Mary. Oh, Rose is wholesome, but utterly indif¬ 
ferent to what anyone thinks, woman or man. 

Blake. You’re not indifferent to what men think, 
Miss Mary? 

Mary. It’s rather a case of their being indiffer¬ 
ent to me. I’m too serious. 

Blake. That’s just surface, from takin’ respon¬ 
sibility too hard. I can see you smilin’ underneath. 
. Mary. I wonder if you’d give me some advice? 

Blake. Well, I’m not much of an advisor to 
beautiful ladies in distress. 

Mary. Thank you. Do you think I ought to 
marry Jim? 

Blake. Gracious! Does he ? 

Mary. He says he does. 

Blake. (Hesitatingly) Do you? 

Mary. It’s not advice if you find out what I want 
and then advise that. 

Blake. Well, it’s the kind I give whenever I can 
get away with it. I don’t guess you’re very seri¬ 
ously in love with Jim. (Anxiously) Are you? 

Mary. I’m not quite sure. 

Blake. Don’t marry him, then: wait a while; 
look around a little until you are certain. 

Mary. Thank you. 

Blake. Do you believe in love at first sight? 

Mary. Of course, don’t you? 

Blake. It’s a realm in which I consider anything 
possible. Take a case in point. A fellow down in 
Kentucky—like me, lives near Bowlin’ Green—had a 
girl on his mind for years. Hadn’t met her, but had 
heard a lot about her. Then one day he met her, and 
before you could say Stonewall Jackson he was all 
doubled up. 

Mary. In love ? 

Blake. From his limited observation it seems to 
have every one of the earmarks. 

Mary. What of the girl? 


34 


NOT SO FAST 


Blake. She doesn’t know yet. He hasn’t seen 
her for over an hour altogether. He’s after me to 
advise him, but I tell him I haven’t one bit more ex¬ 
perience than himself. 

Mary. He should do something to get her inter¬ 
ested, to attract her attention, to make her think about 
him. Some day, then, he can choose a favorable 
time and tell her. 

Blake. How soon? 

Mary. No one can say that—but not too soon. 

Blake. Couple of days? 

Mary. That seems at bit sudden. 

Blake. How ’bout a week ? 

Mary. Unless the circumstances are very unusual, 
he should wait at least that long. 

Blake. Oh, he thinks the circumstances are re¬ 
markably unusual, and he wants to waste as little of 
life alone as possible. What would you say to four 
days? 

Mary. That might do. 

Blake. I’ll tell him. 

Mary. Wish him luck for me. 

Blake. I will. Will you “root” for him ? 

Mary. I hope he wins. Have some more tea ? 

Blake. Oh, yes. Had forgotten about tea. I’m 
sorry I never met you while you lived in Kentucky. 

Mary. I’ve often wondered why that was. 

Blake. I was going to prep school then, then to 
college. Of course, I knew your dad, but it wasn’t 
until later, on huntin’ and fishin’ trips, I got to know 
him so well and to love him. 

Mary. That explains it. 

Blake. I suppose you’re mighty disappointed in 
your senior guardian? 

Mary. Oh, Im not at all! I had no idea you 
would be so young and—and—nice looking. 

Blake. I guess that compared to what you’ve 
been picturing anything would look pleasant. 


NOT SO FAST 


35 


Mary. (A bit coquettishly) That may be it. 

Blake. How many years since you've been back 
to Kentucky? 

Mary. Eight. Father was so bitter after mother’s 
death he could never bring himself to go back to our 
old place. And Judge Acton sold it shortly after 
father died. 

Blake. You do not feel the bitterness your father 
always felt? 

Mary. Oh, I can’t. There was much sacred hap¬ 
piness mixed with, the grief. You see, I was a big 
girl then, nearly sixteen. I nursed her, worshipped 
her, knowing all the time that she must go. 

Blake. Did she know, too? 

Mary. Yes. She had the clearest faith. She 
used to talk to me for hours of what I must do— 
after. (Her eyes filled with tears.) 

Blake. You were very young for such a heavy 
responsibility. 

Mary. (Controlling herself with a great effort) 
I don’t know what came over me. I never speak of 
it. There is no one to whom I could. (Rises and 
walks toward window at back, using her handker¬ 
chief.) 

Blake. 1 am glad you could to me. (He rises 
and walks toward other window. He feels in his 
pockets for his handkerchief, but cannot find it.) I’m 
out again without a handkerchief. (Reaches the win¬ 
dow at right, and with a swift movement uses lace 
curtain to press against his eyes. Mary stands at 
window in back. Pauses.) These city apartments 
can’t be real homes. 

Mary. (Laughing) I know it! I should take a 
house, but the added expense would make it impos¬ 
sible. That is one of the reasons why I am so anx¬ 
ious about the investment. It’s a marvelous oppor¬ 
tunity. 

Blake. I hope it is as good as you think it. 


36 


NOT SO FAST 


Mary. Jim says it is, and he told me to be sure 
and assure you regarding it. The time is so short 
and he is so anxious to close everything up. 

Blake. And you are laborin’ under the mis for-; 
tune of havin’ slow old me for a guardian. 

Mary. But you will promise to hurry ? 

Blake. Oh, I’ll promise to hurry up just as fasti 
as I can. 

Mary. Now what does that mean in terms that I 
can explain to Jim? 

Blake. It means that Jim and I are both workin’ 
for your interests, but that blimps are hard to hurryJ 
They simply can’t be stampeded. 

Mary. That doesn’t mean anything at all. We 
do need more income—for the children. Of course! 
we’re far from being in want, but Robin needs so 
many things, and Rose is growing up and getting ^ 
more expensive every year. 

Blake. (Tenderly) Miss Mary- Durn the 

Miss, I’m goin’ to drop it—— 

Mary. Yes, I wish you would. 

Blake. I will! Mary, Jimmy’s goin’ to help get 
you more income an’ I won’t steal his thunder. Whatl 
I’m goin’ to do is see you don’t get any less. With 
Jimmy tryin’ to get you more, an’ me determined 
you’re not to have any less, both Jimmy and I are 
saps if you end up any worse off than you are now. 

(Telephone hell for outside telephone rings. Mary 
goes to it.) 

Mary. Hello. Yes, Jim. . . . No, not yet. . . 9 
I shall. . . . Maybe he can’t be bribed. ... All 
right. Good-bye. . . . Jim is awfully anxious and 
wants me to get you to promise to close everything! 
up to-morrow. 

Blake. To-morrow? Isn’t that one of the days 




NOT SO FAST 37 

that never come? What was the other he said, 
Mary ? 

Mary. That’s a secret. 

Blake. Was it about me, Mary ? 

Mary. Maybe. 

Blake. Then as your guardian I demand infor¬ 
mation ! 

Mary. Oh, Guardy Blimp!—as Rose would say. 
Blake. Mary, I command you. 

Mary. Jim was just teasing me: he said that if 
I smiled at you, you’d do it. 

Blake. Durned if he isn’t a mind-reader! 

(He sits beside her on davenport; she smiles, rises 
and walks away. His face falls.) 

END OF ACT I. 


X 


ACT II 


The scene is laid in Acton's office in the Woolworth 
Building. At left back is the entrance door 
carrying the name of James Barton Acton, 
with the warning, “Private,” beneath it. . Far¬ 
ther down, in lower right hand corner, is the 
legend, “Estate of Oliver Standish.” 

At left is a double window through which one cor¬ 
ner of the top of another sky-scraper can be 
seen, and, in the distance, the two towers of 
Brooklyn Bridge with the cables drooping from 
them. 

At right is door leading into office of Acton's secre¬ 
tary. 

This office is tastefully and expensively fur¬ 
nished, but the furniture has the appearance 
of being just a bit too ornamental for a hard- 
headed business man. The desk is a double, flat- 
top, glass-topped one, with only one story of 
drawers and a consequent fairly long length of 
somewhat slender legs. Two swivel chairs of 
harmonious patterns are in place by the desk, 
and a number of straight chairs of similar pat¬ 
tern are standing against the walls. A filing 
cabinet, a locker for confidential papers, a dic¬ 
tionary stand, and a small table which holds a 
delicate cut-glass water-pitcher and four glasses 
of similar design, complete the harmonious fur¬ 
niture. On the walls are several small land¬ 
scapes in water color. 

Acton's desk has on it a telephone, a three-part pic¬ 
ture frame in which are photographs of Mary, 

38 


NOT SO FAST 


39 


Rose and Robin, a slender vase with two long¬ 
stemmed red roses, and a small neat pile of un¬ 
opened letters. 

Fay Fothergill is seated at the desk regarding her¬ 
self in a small vanity case mirror . Fay is a 
very pretty girl of twenty-one, with reddish hair 
very much fluffed in an extravagant style, and 
is obviously pleased with herself. She powders 
her nose, touches up her lips with rouge, and 
worries her hair with her little fingers with a 
motion soon seen to be habitual and characteris¬ 
tic. She is obviously of the type of working girl 
who regards her status as temporary only, and 
shows by her manner of dress that she is prone 
to over-emphasis and somewhat obvious in her 
methods; but she possesses the ultra-modern ad¬ 
vantage of frank honesty, and gives an impres¬ 
sion of native wholesomeness. After arranging 
her features to her satisfaction, she looks at her 
wrist-watch, gives a start of surprise, and hastily 
removes the telephone receiver. 

Fay. (Very impatiently, jiggling the hook at in¬ 
tervals ) Well, at last! Do I want a number ? Well, 
if you got any left I’ll take one. How ’bout Broad 
five thousand? (Pause.) Hello! Nebro Brothers? 
Mr. Clarence, please. (Pause — tenderly) Hello, 
Clarence, this is Fay—Fay Fothergill. ... No, Mr. 
Acton ain’t in yet, but I expect him any minnit. 
Guess he was inventing a few new steps last night at 
the Montmarte. . . . Oh, he’s doing his best, Clar¬ 
ence, but just nothing less than a bomb could stir up 
his slender little playmate from Kentucky. Always 
heard the South was slow—. You’ve seen him—you 
know what we are up against. . . . What’s that? 
Tell Mr. Acton that to-day is positively last day for 
deal—you’re tired of paying options on stock, and 
that you will put deal on fifty-fifty basis. All right, 


NOT SO FAST 


40 

Clarence. He’ll understand, will he, fifty-fifty? 
(Pause while she listens intently.) I’d like to— 
usual place at one-thirty. Lissen. (Makes a sound 
imitative of a kiss.) 

(Jim enters through private entrance. He is immacu¬ 
late, though slightly too carefully dressed, hut 
looks a hit tired and dissipated. He occasion¬ 
ally presses his hands to his temples. Fay rises 
hurriedly at his entrance and moves away from 
his chair, while he removes his hat and places it 
on rack.) 

Jim. Good morning, Fay. 

Fay. Good morning, Mr. Acton. Hope you feel 
O.K. 

Jim. Not so well; I rather overdid it a bit. Those 
two young brats at the Standish’s kept me up until 
three-thirty this morning, and then I ran across a 
friend who was trying to drink up his entire private 
stock and needed help. 

Fay. I see, sir. 

Jim. (Grimly) Unfortunately I helped him. Any 
messages ? 

Fay. Yes, sir. Mr. Clarence Nebro wants me to 
tell you they can’t wait any longer than today. 

Jim. (Impatiently) I know that perfectly well; 
if the deal isn’t closed by three o’clock the whole 
thing’s off. 

Fay. And said he’d put deal on a fifty-fifty basis. 

Jim. (Glancing at her keenly) What does that 
mean, Fay? 

Fay. He said you’d understand. 

Jim. (As if solution had just come to him) Oh, 
yes—it’s not important. 

Fay. And Miss Standish telephoned. She said 
she would meet you at Fulton Street at one o’clock. 

Jim. Good! Wonderful woman, Fay. 


NOT SO FAST 


4i 


Fay. I’m sure of it, sir. 

Jim. Any news from the Kentucky boob? 

Fay. (Meditativeily) He didn’t strike me like a 
boob, sir. 

Jim. Good gracious, Fay, who but a boob would 
do the things he’s done about the power of attorney 
he was to give me? Brought the one I sent him to 
Kentucky in his trunk to New York, then sent his 
suit, with the trunk check in a pocket, to a tailor. Of 
course, someone got the check and stole his trunk. 

Fay. Oh, my! 

Jim. That lost two days. I mailed him another, 
but he’d moved from the Ritz to the Plaza without 
leaving a forwarding address or mentioning it to 
anyone. That lost two more days. 

Fay. Yes, sir. 

Jim. He signed it and returned it to the Singer 
Building, instead of the Woolworth. 

Fay. What do you know about that! 

Jim. When it eventually reached me, what do you 
suppose he’d done? 

Fay. I couldn’t guess. 

Jim. (With disgust) Signed it in the place re¬ 
served for the notary public! 

Fay. He had ? 

Jim. And all the time I’ve been unable to get my 
hands on him. He and Rose have been trotting 
around to see the zoo, or the aquarium, or to movies, 
or other places of equal interest. 

Fay. That’s tough. 

Jim. (Removing envelope from pocket) Yes. 
Well, I’ve got the stock itself this time, and I’m going 
to have him sign while I look on. He is due here at 
one-thirty for the purpose. (Gets hat and stick and 
goes to door.) 

Fay. (Looking at watch) What time you starting 
to meet Miss Standish, sir? 

Jim. (Looking at his watch) It’s a bit early, but 


48 NOT SO FAST 

she may be ahead of time. Oh, if "The Blimp” flies 
in, tell him I’ll be right back. I’m going to get a 
signature from him to-day even if I have to use a 
lead pipe. 

Fay. Yes, sir. 

(He goes out and Fay watches him with a quizzical, 
amused, but tolerant smile. She proceeds with 
determination to fluff her hair with her little 
fingers and to again go over the routine of per¬ 
sonal beautification. The door to secretary's 
office opens slowly and Blake sticks his head 
through the crack. A confident smile is on his 
face. He watches the movements of Fay with 
an occasional approving nod.) 

Blake. Your obedient, Miss Fothergill. 

Fay. (Jumping) Geminy, I thought you were a 
burglar! _ _ I 

Blake. Believe me or not, Miss Fay, if I were, I 
sure know what I’d steal. 

Fay. (Pleased) Oh, do you think so? 

Blake. Has he really gone? 

Fay. For half an hour or so. 

Blake. (Entering and putting hat and stick on 
chair) Good. I slipped into your office and wouldn’t 
chance cornin’ in here ’till the hum of voices died. 
He is always wantin’ me to hurry up and sign some¬ 
thing or other, and I was afraid it would be just the 
same this time. 

Fay. He has something for you to sign. 

Blake. There, didn’t I guess it; and I’ve just fin¬ 
ished my little snack of lunch, and I always hate to 
try concentratin’ too soon after eatin’. (Walks slow¬ 
ly over to desk and rests against back of swivel 
chair.) 

Fay. I was just getting in the proper frame of 
mind for a nibble or so myself. 

Blake. Some men are awful lucky. 


NOT SO FAST 


43 


Fat. (Giggling) And some girls. Say, have you 
ever met Clarence Nebro? 

Blake. (Surprised) Clarence? Yes, I’ve met 
him—Pelham too. 

Fay. Plow you like Clarence? 

Blake. Well, now, Clarence is a durned bright, 
good-looking, slick, clever feller. 

Fay. Can you keep a secret? 

Blake. Sure, if it’s meant to be kept, or spread 
it otherwise. 

Fay. He’s my number one—we’re sorter en¬ 
gaged. 

Blake. I thought Clarence had a wife? 

Fay. Oh, yes, but they’re going to divorce each 
other, and he’s going to marry me after it’s finished. 

Blake. Well, I’ll be dumed! 

Fay. Yes, ain’t it grand? Fay Nebro—how you 
like it? Way up in society. I always knew that 
Fothergill had something behind it, and now I’m go¬ 
ing to prove it and take the place I’ve always longed 
for. 

Blake. I don’t surprise awful easy, Miss Fay, 
but are men so scarce in this town you got to get en¬ 
gaged to the married ones? 

Fay. Oh, no, there’s lots of them, but not many 
that will talk marriage to you. 

Blake. Is Clarence the only one that will talk 
marriage to you? 

Fay. No, I’m acquainted with another one, but 
he runs a delicatessen store on Manhattan Avenue. 

Blake. Delicatessenin’ is about as honest as stock¬ 
broking. 

Fay. Yes, but it’s a different social level entirely; 
and he’s a Heinie named Schnipff. Can you see me 
as Fay Schnipff— (Shudders )—the delicatessener’s 
bride? 

Blake. Has he asked you to marry him? 

Fay. On his knees—shoot the picture of it. 


44 


NOT SO FAST 


Blake. I suppose he’s old and bald and puffy 
and talks like a comedian ? 

Fay. Gee, no! He’s only thirty and was born in 
Milwaukee. He’s making lots of money, too, and 
many a girl would be willing to do a down-the-aisle 
with him. 

Blake. It sounds worth considerin’ to me, Miss 
Fay. 

Fay. Oh, no, I’ve got ambition, Mr. Blake, and 
socially a delicatessener ain’t an inch in the yard to 
a broker. 

Blake. No, I suppose not, but circumstances alter 
cases. (Reminiscently) Take my Aunt Mehitabel— 
we called her Hitty for short—she was beaued once 
by a young minin’ engineer—assistant superintend¬ 
ent of a coal mine near Bowlin’ Green. My family 
all liked him and were strong for the match, but Aunt 
Hitty wouldn’t have him—on Saturdays when the 
whistle blew he was so eager to get down to Bowlin’ 
Green to see her he didn’t always get all the coal dust 
out of his ears. In the courts of Europe, in which 
Aunt Hitty was figurin’ on doin’ a few tableaux, she 
couldn’t see any hope for coal-dust ears. So she 
married the grandson of a rich old whiskey distiller 
of Louisville. Fine old family—manufacturers of 
red-eye in the first generation, and consumers of it 
in the third. And instead of spreadin’'herself in 
the courts of Europe, Aunt Hitty has done her tab¬ 
leaux in the courts of Louisville. 

Fay. What about the young miner? 

Blake. Oh, nothin’ much—worth many millions; 
considered everywhere as a great authority; but never 
married. 

Fay.. (Looking at Blake with sudden respect) 
I see, sir. Do you ever give advice ? 

Blake. (Very kindly) Seldom, my dear, but very 
pretty young girls must be careful. Now if I were 
one, and a married man were talkin’ to me about 


NOT SO FAST 


45 

marriage, when he divorces his wife, and I really 
loved him, I think I’d let him have mighty little to 
say to me while anyone else had a claim on him. 
(Walks to window, smoking.) 

Fay. Thank you, sir. (After a pause of a few 
seconds) You know, you’d make an awful kind hus¬ 
band yourself, sir. 

Blake. (Turns with a look of surprise) Now, I 
think I would, but I probably never shall. 

Fay. I don’t give advice, either, but if I was a 
man and in love with Miss Standish, I’d do some¬ 
thing about it. 

Blake. Here, here! Who’s been talkin’ to you ? 
(Comes to end of desk.) 

Fay. Miss Rose. 

Blake. Oh! And what would you do ? 

Fay. Well, if I knew she was to meet Mr. Acton 
at one o’clock, I’d try to head her off, if there were 
time— (Looking at wrist-watch) —which there is— 
see ?—and have her meet me instead. 

Blake. Well, any man would do that if he knew 
how. (Walks hack to window.) 

Fay. Watch, and lissen. (Takes off receiver of 
telephone.) Plaza, five two hundred. (Pause.) 

Blake. Gosh, you’re not goin’ to do it? 

Fay. Uh-huh. . . . Hello, Arabella. Miss Stan¬ 
dish gone yet? No? Good. Tell her she is to come 
to Mr. Acton’s office instead of meeting him at Ful¬ 
ton Street. Thanks, good-bye! (Shrugging her 
shoulders.) Oh, it’s a cinch! 

Blake. In the hands of an expert. What do I 
do next? 

Fay. You got to figger that out for yourself! 
(Goes out to her office.) 

(Blake takes up the photograph-holder on Jim’s 
desk and gazes at it intently. He sighs.) 


46 


NOT SO FAST 


Blake. Mary, Rose and Robin. (Smiling.) The 
Queen, the Ace, and the Jack—all high cards, but 
durned different. 

(The outer door is flung open violently, and Rose 
dashes in, followed immediately by Sylvester. 
They are breathless from running. Blake 
shows no excitement at the incident. He is not 
observed for an instant or two.) 

Sylvester. There, you beat me! 

Rose. I’ll bet you held back so I could—boys 
have no honor about such things. 

Sylvester. I didn’t either—I just didn’t run quite 
as hard as possible. 

Rose. (Starting toward dictionary) Boys are 
awful cheaters. Here I am, Guardy. 

Blake. So I hear. 

Rose. I’m going to look up synonamous. 

Blake. Here, who invited you to this meetin’? 
(Goes up to Rose.) 

Rose. Nobody—that’s why I’m early. 

Blake. What can you do— (With affectionate 
scorn) —you minor? 

Rose. Little minors have big ears, Guardy Blimp. 
Blake. (Laughing in delight) Bless your heart, 
you’re a petal from the rose of joy. 

Rose. (Deserting the dictionary, moves over to 
Blake and puts an arm about his neck) I wish I 
thought you meant that, Guardy. 

Blake. Go right ahead and think it, dear, because 
I do. But where’s that young fly-by-night, Robin? 

(Sylvester’s expression is one of frank disap¬ 
proval.) 

Rose. We left him at the dog show. 

Blake. Nice place, nice place. So vocal. 


NOT SO FAST 4 7 

Sylvester. (In ill humor) Unlike Rose, he pre¬ 
ferred remaining where he was. 

Blake. Well, now, I hardly blame him, come to 
think of it. I, personally, know a whole lot of dogs 
I could come to think more of than plenty of men I 
know. 

(Rose giggles. Sylvester flashes a look at her, then 
an angrier one at Blake.) 

Sylvester. (Moving up to Blake) Anything 
personal in that remark, Watt Blake? 

Blake. No, son, no ! Remember, I said men. 

(Rose giggles more loudly.) 

Sylvester. (Furiously) That’s right, laugh! 
Giggle! Witty, isn’t he? Everything “The Blimp” 
says is perfect. But Robin doesn’t think so, not a 
little bit! 

Blake. He doesn’t? You can’t mean that? 

Sylvester. I do; and I can tell you another 
thing! (Comes back storming.) 

Rose. (Springing in between them) Sillie! Don’t 
you dare! 

Blake. (Soothingly) Don’t stop him, honey. I 
always like to know what the other fellow thinks. 

Rose. Sylvester isn’t thinking. He just thinks 
he thinks. 

Blake. Oh, Syl’s all right—or will be when the 
dew lifts. / 

Sylvester. We can’t all be oc—oc—octogerani- 
ums, not all at once. 

Blake. That must be some new disease! Octo- 

g er - You/d better look that up, Rosital (Rose 

begins a frantic turning of dictionary leaves.) So 
Robin thinks badly of me? I wouldn’t want little 
Robin to think that. 


48 


NOT SO FAST 


Sylvester. It isn’t that so much, as—well— 
Robin says: You can’t or won’t take the trouble to 
do things right, and ain’t—er—aren’t willing to leave 
them to those who can. 

Blake. Meanin’, of course, Jimmy Acton. 

Sylvester. Well, you can’t deny that you’ve 
balled everything up so far. Can you? (Directly 
at Blake, with a shaking of head.) 

Blake. No, I can’t deny that. (Blake shakes 
head, mockingly.) 

Sylvester. (Defiantly) And Mr. Acton doing 
everything he can to steer you straight. 

Blake. Steerin’ a blimp is a durned hard bit o’ 
work. 

Sylvester. Besides, he doesn’t treat Robin and 
me as if we were wearing our first long trousers. 
Jim Acton knows the w T orld is round, he does. He 
says it himself. 

Blake. He admits it. 

Sylvester. Then he’s a well-known lawyer, edu¬ 
cated in Europe- 

Blake. All over Europe, probably. 

Sylvester. (Continuing) Not just— a—a —a— 
(Breaks off, a hit confused. Blake ignores confu¬ 
sion. His face is twitching again with suppressed 
mirth.) 

Blake. What word you after now? Not octo- 
geranium ? 

Rose. Guardy, there’s no such word. Sillie was 
just showing off. Boys do such things. 

Sylvester. There is so. It’s from octo-eighty. 
I meant an old man of eighty, if I must be blunt. 

Rose. (Sitting on desk—bored) Aren’t boys sub¬ 
tle things ? 

(Fay enters with coat and hat on, ready for the 
street.) 


NOT SO FAST 


49 

Fay. (Banteringly) Well, the crowd has grown. 

Rose. Enormously. 

Fay. Hello, Mr. Vane. 

Sylvester. (In ill humor) Hello! 

Fay. (At door) Well, make yourselves at home. 
I’ve got a very important luncheon on. 

Rose. Don’t let any of those Wall Streeters give 
you any bum financial dope, Fay. 

Fay. (Strutting a bit) Trust me for that, Miss 
Rose, trust me for that. (She goes out.) 

Sylvester. (Still sour) She thinks she’s the 
Joan of Arc of Wall Street. 

Blake. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if her tips 
are as good as any. 

Rose. (Rises and comes to front end of desk) 
Does she really know anything about stocks and 
such, Guardy? 

Blake. (Rising) ’Course not, honey; that’s why 
I bunch her in with the others. 

Sylvester. (Coming down right center) I don’t 
make any sense out of what you’re saying. 

Rose. (Arms around Blake) Well, I do, Sillie, 
and as soon as I start in using real small words I’ll 
explain to you. 

Blake. (Casually , as one would talk to a small 
boy) Trot into Miss Fothergill’s office, Sly, I want 
to talk to Rose. 

Sylvester. Why should I do that? (Drops pipe.) 
Rose is with me, and I don’t see why I should vamoos 
and leave her with you! (Attempts to reach Rose. 
Blake prevents him.) 

Blake. (Smiling) Business, son, business. 

Sylvester. Oh, yes, that’s all very well and- 

Rose. (Bored) Oh, Sylvester, don’t act so cal¬ 
low —and—and—unsophisticated. 

Blake. You’re tryin’ to cover a lot of territory 
there, honey. 


Rose. If I didn’t want you to go, Sylvester, I’d 
prevent it 

Blake. There, you see, I’m absolutely powerless 
to detain you. (Blake gestures Sylvester toward 
door with his hands.) 

Sylvester. (Unhappily and angrily, moving 
toward door indicated) Women are hell ! (He goes 
out, slamming door after himself.) 

Rose. (Coming center to Blake) Isn’t imma¬ 
turity exasperating? 

Blake. But, Rosita, he’s heels over head. 

Rose. Don’t I know it. 

Blake. And he’s really a very fine lad. (Look¬ 
ing at her and smiling.) He’s quite the bee’s knees, 
the snake’s hips, and canary bird’s eyebrows. I col¬ 
lected those this morning. I’ll get all of them before 
I leave here. 

Rose. (Wrinkles her nose at him) Of course, 
Guardy, but I’ve dreamed of a splendid cavalier on a 
fiery steed for my first lover, and, instead, he turns 
out to be a Yale freshman with the worst case of 
puppy dog I’ve ever heard. 

Blake. Yes, but he’s awfully sincere. 

Rose. Why didn’t you cavalier for me, Guardy? 

Blake. How could I ride a fiery steed way up 
here to the tenth floor? 

Rose. You could have dashed up to my very win¬ 
dow in an airship. 

Blake. Too far to fall, too far to fall, Rosie, 
when you chucked me out for someone younger. 

Rose. (Taking his little finger in a confidingly 
girlish way and gazing into his face) But, Guardy, 
if it had lasted a week, wouldn’t it have been worth 
it? 

Blake. (Laughing) Yes, my bright little ward, 
or for even a day. 

Rose. But, instead, you fell for Mary like a load 


NOT SO FAST 


5i 

of safes, and I’m awful afraid you’re not even go¬ 
ing to have a week up in your airship. 

Blake. That’s why Tm gentle with Sylvester; 
because I can understand how he suffers. Doesn't 
suffer like me, though. Can’t. Hasn’t got the ma¬ 
ture apparatus to suffer with. What do you young 
people in love really know about its agonies? When 
every protoplasmic cell in me starts cryin’ out, it’s 
real agony. 

Rose. I’m sorry, Guardy, but I can’t help at all. 

Blake. That’s all right, honey. I can’t under¬ 
stand why I don’t hear from Mexico. (Pats her 
hand and goes up right.) 

Rose. Nothing yet? 

Blake. (Slowly pacing the office) No. Not a 
line. Bill Avery, the greatest minin’ engineer in the 
country—came near being my uncle once—left Mex¬ 
ico City twelve days ago to look over this property 
Jim wants to put your money into. It’s takin’ longer 
than I thought, but Bill never reports until he’s sure. 
If he says O.K., in goes your money, and I blimp it 
back to Kentucky a bigger dunce than ever, and a 
sight sadder. If he says “No,” I got to let Speedy 
Jim know I’ve been investigatin’ him on the side and 
that I don’t think so very much of his judgment. 

Rose. They are going to make you sign at two or 
explain why. 

Blake. It’s not two yet, and— (Chuckling) —you 
know that your old centipede’s galoshes has signed 
once already. 

Rose. (Chuckling also) Yes, on the notary pub¬ 
lic line. They’ll watch you this time, and tell you 
to “Sign here.” 

Sylvester. (Opening door and dashing in) How 
much longer I gotter stay in this cell ? 

Blake. That sounds just like Syl’s voice. It is. 
Come right in, son. Durned if we hadn’t forgot all 




52 NOT SO FAST 

about you. (Rose is on end of desk with arms around 
Blake.) 

Sylvester. Had you, Rose? 

Rose. Now, Syl, don’t ask any questions with the 
hope I’ll fib to spare your feelings. (The outer door 
opens and Mary enters. Rose is holding one of 
Blake’s hands in perfect frankness.) 

Mary. Why, Rose, what are you doing here ? 

Rose. Family business, Sister; not invited, but 
decided to come. I can stay, can’t I, Guardy? (He 
nods.) 

Mary. But, dear, in such matters you shouldn’t— 

Blake. Now she’s an interested party, and if she 
wishes to see her poor, dull old guardian sign his 
foolish old name, she has a right to do so. 

Mary. Oh, well, of course, if her guardian says 
so, she may stay. 

Rose, And your guardian, too, Sister. 

Mary. Very well, dear, our guardian. It is quite 
evident he has captivated one of his wards. (Goes 
to Sylvester,, right center.) 

Rose. (Slipping her right arm through Blake’s 
left arm and leaning affectionately against him) I 
don’t see how anybody can hold out against this nice 
blimpy old darling. 

Mary. Rose, don’t be so familiar! 

Rose. (Holding Blake tightly) He likes it. All 
big strong men like to be babied. (To Blake) 
Don’t they? 

Blake. They love it; all the blimpy ones love it. 

Rose. (Cunningly) Now you’ll not sign any¬ 
thing ’till I get back ? I want to see you. Promise. 

Blake. (Winking at her) I promise. 

Rose. Come on, Silly. (Goes up to door.) 

Mary. But wait a minute. Where is Jim? 

Rose. “Ask of the winds that far around with 
wreckage strewed the sea.” 

Mary. But I was to meet him here. 


NOT SO FAST 


53 

Rose. Oh, he’ll turn up, he generally does. Come, 
Sillie. 

Mary. Where are you going ? 

Rose. I’m hungry as a polar bear. 

Sylvester. Ha, ha! I’ll buy you a couple of 
Eskimo pies. (Looks at Blake in triumph.) Ah-h! 
(They go out.) 

Blake. I like that boy because he fights. (Pulls 
door shut after them.) 

Mary. I wonder where Jim can be? 

Blake. Wherever it is, I’m glad it isn’t here, for 
I sure wish to see you. 

Mary. (Interested) That sounds very little like 
the business we’re here for. 

Blake. It’s not business. 

Mary. It was business brought you here. 

Blake. I know, but the instant you came in at 
the door business flew out of the window. 

Mary. That’s not very complimentary. 

Blake. Well, it’s meant to be. Now don’t you 
ever notice anything, Mary? Haven’t you observed 
any of my wild looks ? Don’t you know what’s really 
the matter with me? 

Mary. Mostly Rose, I should say. 

Blake. Rose, of course, as a very fond elder 
brother; but it’s you I love with a very different kind 
of love. 

Mary. Oh, please. 

Blake. And it has made me absolutely irrespon¬ 
sible. When I lost my trunk check, when I changed 
hotels and left no address behind, when I signed in 
the wrong place—so many of the things I have done 
which seem so foolish to you—were all caused indi¬ 
rectly by you. And I’m liable to break out in a new 
direction any instant. Now, isn’t there any hope 
for me ? 

Mary. Why, I thought it was Rose. And I’m 
practically engaged to Jim. 


54 


NOT SO FAST 


Blake, But not actually? 

Mary. He asked me first. 

Blake. Is that necessarily fatal? 

Mary. No, but I thought it was Rose, and Tve 
been greatly worried because—well—I didn’t want 
Rose to make a mistake. (Blake’s face falls—walks 
to right.) Really, isn’t it Rose? So many things— 
the way you look at each other- 

Blake. (Crossing hack to Mary) It is Rose’s 
only sister that I love. Is her heart big enough for 
a blumberin’ blimp to fly into it ? 

Mary. Oh, dear, life is so complicated! Just Jim 
alone was complicated enough. Are you sure it isn’t 
Rose? 

Blake. Quite sure. (Resting over hack of chair 
with arms on chair arms.) 

Mary. (Crosses to right center) Well, I’ll speak 
to Jim about it. (Blake’s face falls ) 

Blake. That sure would be a big help to me. 
Then if you go that far, you must care for me a bit, 
and take me seriously. 

Mary. Of course it is serious. 

Blake. (Insistently) And do you care for me a 
bit? 

Mary. How do I know? I’ve been thinking it 
was Rose—and I did not approve. 

Blake. I wouldn’t want you to approve of that. 

Mary. Are you really proposing to me ? 

Blake. I’m tryin’ to, but bein’ clumsy about it, as 
usual. You see, Mary, I’ve never exactly expected 
such a thing to happen to me, and it’s happened all 
of a sudden. Love has always seemed one of the 
delicious things of life reserved for other people: 
and here it has flooded my whole bein’ and I find 
there’s a heap of agony connected with it. 

Mary. I am sorry. 

Blake. Oh, I wouldn’t miss it on that account! 

I never knew before how much happiness there was 



NOT SO FAST 


55 

in bcfng miserable. I wouldn’t avoid it because of 
the pain. I wouldn’t give up the joy of loving you 
if I knew the agony of it was going to blow my 

heart to bits. 

Mary. I don’t want anyone to suffer on my ac¬ 
count. 

Blake. It’s not what you want, dear; it’s what 
Fate commands. It’s Nature’s way of fillin’ the cup 
of life—often without arranging for two to drink, 
from the same cup. Along the north boundary of 
my farm in Kentucky a little river runs. Mostly it’s 
so narrow the tree branches meet overhead, makin’ it 
just a tunnel through the woods. Day after day in 
spring I take a canoe and float slowly down. Lyin’ 
back quietly, just driftin’ with the current, listenin’ 
and lookin’. 

Mary. Just such a stream flowed by our own 
dear Lady Oaks. 

Blake. It’s the one I float on, right on by your 
old home. The birds are buildin’ their nests; the 
insects’ songs are vibrant with feelin’. Nature is 
justifyin’ herself. 

Mary. I did not think you could feel so deeply. 

Blake. Nor I, dear. I’ve often wondered why 
of all the world I sang no song of love and lit no 
fire in my heart. Now the fire’s been lit, and all the 
firemen in the world couldn’t put it out. 

(Jim enters. He is very much annoyed. As soon as 
he sees Mary and Blake his annoyance turns 
to anger.) 

Jim. Well, I must say this is great, Mary! Keep 
me waiting for three-quarters of an hour while you 
tete-d-tete with The Blimp. 

Mary. I carried out your instructions. 

Jim. Really? I fail to realize that. 


56 


NOT SO FAST 


Mary. You sent word to me to meet you here 
instead of at Fulton Street. 

Jim. (Surprised and less angry) I beg your par¬ 
don, dear. I did no such thing. 

Mary. I’m sorry, Jim, but Miss Fothergill 
’phoned it to Arabella. 

Jim. The girl must be losing her senses. 

Blake. I hope she keeps right on. 

Jim. Her silly little head is so full of her love 
affairs she can’t think of anything else. 

Blake. I guess somebody must have put the 
hoodoo on her, all right. 

Jim. Well, we’ve no time to talk about that now. 
It’s after two and the Exchange closes at three. 

Blake. It will open again. It will open again. 

Jim. (As if to a child) Now look here, old chap. 
I don’t mean to be unpleasant or rude, but don’t you 
realize we have to sell the Standish securities, and 
get the money to give to Nebro to buy the mining 
stock? Now you do understand that, don’t you? 

Blake. Yes, of course I do; that’s what you been 
tryin’ to make clear to me for over ten days now. 

Jim. Well, it’s just as true as ever it was! (Tak¬ 
ing paper from pocket.) Here we are, five hundred 
shares of Standard Oil worth a little over two hun¬ 
dred thousand dollars. No power of attorney this 
time; you are going to sign the stock itself. Stick 
your Henry Watterson Blake on this line. 

Blake. (Taking a pen) Two hundred thousand 
dollars is a pile of money, Speedy. You don’t think 
we are taking any chances? 

Jim. No, no —for the ten thousandth time, no ! 

Blake. Well, that’s good; and you’ve investigated 
it thoroughly ? 

Jim. (Nervously) Oh, we settled that days ago. 
If you don’t hurry it will be too late. 

Mary. Please, Mr. Blake, really you should be 
guided by Jim. 


NOT SO FAST 


57 


Blake. (Sitting — with resignation) I will be 
guided by Jim. (Pointing) On this line here. 
Speedy ? 

Jim. No, that’s the line for the date. (Point¬ 
ing ) Here! 

Blake. (Poising his pen) And the deal blows up 
if it’s not finished by three? 

Jim. Absolutely. Sign your full name. 

Blake. All right. (Prepares to sign.) Gosh, I 
can’t do it! I just happened to remember that I 
promised Rose I’d wait so she could see me do it. 

Jim. Oh, my Lord ! there’s no time for that now. 

Blake. (Stubbornly — rising) I promised, and 
when I promise it’s a promise. 

Jim. (Wildly) Yes, but where is she? (Dashes 
to door of office.) Thank the Lord you’re here! 

(Rose, Sylvester and Robin dash in.) 

Rose. What’s wrong, Guardy? 

Jim. Everything. 

Blake. (Calmly) No, nothin’at all, dear. (He 
puts an arm about her.) They wanted me to sign, 
but I promised you could see me do it, so I wouldn’t 
sign ’till you got back. 

Rose. (Putting an arm about him) And quite 
right, too, Guardy. 

Jim. But it’s after half-past two, Rose! 

Robin. Gee, you got to get a move on! 

Blake. Yes. I better be stirrin’ ! Seems to me 
you let me waste a powerful lot of time, Jim. (Jim 
shrugs his shoulders hopelessly. Blake sits with de¬ 
liberation and dips his pen in the ink.) You said 
my full name? 

Jim. Yes, please! Henry Watterson Blake. 
(Stands over Blake, zvatching him.) 

Blake. Oh, I know the name. Ha, ha, ha! (Af¬ 
ter waving pen about a few times as if about to 


5 8 NOT SO FAST 

sign) Did I ever tell you how I came to be called 
that, Mary? 

Jim. Personally, I don’t give a damn! 

Blake. Oh, Speedy, you swore. 

Jim. (Sourly) I beg pardon; but I don’t want 
to hear anything about your name now. 

Blake. All right, it’s not really important, but 
if my memory serves me right, it just happens to be 
a very interestin’ story. 

Jim. Well, no story at the present moment would 
have the slightest humor in it for me. 

Blake. I beg to differ with you on that point: 
I’d just like to argue that out with you. 

Jim. (Holding his head) Oh-h—oh-h! 

Blake. You see, Colonel Henry Watterson, the 
famous Louisville editor, was a boyhood chum of 
my maternal grandfather, old Colonel Hampden. 
Grand-dad lived to eigh‘ty-five. Would be living yet 
if he hadn’t tried to learn roller-skatin’. 

Jim. I really don’t want to hear about it! 

Blake. You don’t? 

Jim. No, I do not! 

Blake. Not even when I tell you that the whole 
story hinges on the fact that Colonel Watterson had 
a brindle pup called Cinder? Cinder is masculine 
for Cinderella. (Blake laughs, glances at the sober 
faces of Jim and Mary and continues) Well, any¬ 
way, Cinder bit one of Grand-dad’s nigger stable- 
boys. Didn’t like him, or something. 

Jim. (Wildly) Please! Oldman! 

Blake. Everybody worried about the boy—hy¬ 
drophobia, you know; but it never bothered him. 
But what do you think? 

Jim. I stopped thinking an hour ago! 

Blake. Three days later Cinder developed blood- 
poisoning of the soft palate, and died. Thai fod 
dog had picked out a blue-gum nigger! 

Jim. Blimp, for the Lord’s sake, stop! 


NOT SO FAST 


59 


Blake. I haven’t even reached the point yet. 
Mary. Oh, Mr. Blake, we have so little time. 
Blake. I thought we had plenty of time. 

Jim. We’ve never had enough time since you 
came East. 

Blake. Oh, I’m sorry. I’m wrong and I apolo¬ 
gize. I know when I’m wrong. 

Jim. Yes—yes, all right. 

Blake. My full name? 

Jim. I’ve told you that a hundred times! 
Blake. A hundred is a whole lot of times. 
(Starts counting on his fingers.) 

Jim. Call your own number. I’m no longer in¬ 
terested. 

Blake. It may easily have been thirty or forty 

times. 

Jim. Call your own number, then. 

Blake. I know, Jim, but you distinctly said a 
hundred times. 

Mary. Please, Jim! Please, Mr. Blake! 

Blake. All right. (To Mary) My full name? 
Jim. Call Nebros, Robin. Tell Clarence to sell 
five hundred Standard Oil and that I’ll deliver the 
certificate as soon as Blake signs it. 

(Robin picks up telephone and is on point of remov¬ 
ing receiver.) 

Blake. Just a minute: wouldn’t that be sellin’ 
something he hasn’t got ? 

Jim. He’ll have it long before he has to deliver it 
to the purchaser. 

Blake. Someting might happen to me before I’m 
able to sign; my heart go back on me or a clap of 
thunder hit me. 

Jim. It won’t! 


Blake. How can you tell? If it did, you’d have 
Clarence sellin’ something he can’t produce. That’s 


6o 


NOT SO FAST 


this “sellin’ short” we read so much about: sellin’ 
something you haven’t got to someone who hopes 
you never will get it. It seems mighty risky to me. 

Jim. I know all about it! 

Blake. (Delighted) You know all about sellin’ 
short ? 

Jim. Of course! 

Blake. Well, I’m glad you brought the subject 
up. I’ve never understood it, and now you can 
explain it to me. 

Jim. Great heavens! Not to-day, old man! 

Blake. Why not ? 

Jim. There’s not enough time. 

Blake. (Disappointed) Well, then you can’t ex¬ 
pect me to be a party to an action I don’t understand. 
Clarence better not sell this ’till he’s got it in his 
hands. 

Jim. Never mind, Robin. Sign it, Blake! Hurry, 
for the Lord’s sake! 

Blake. My full name? (To Rose) I want you 
to look at this piece of paper. It’s worth two hun¬ 
dred thousand dollars—and here goes. (Writes, 
spelling out as he does so.) H-e-n-r-y-- 

Rose. Are you really going to, Guardy ? 

Blake. What else can I do, honey? 

Rose. Do you know anything more about it than 
you did? 

Blake. No, child. 

Jim. Keep out of this, Rose. 

Rose. Oh - ! (She withdraws and mopes dur¬ 

ing remainder of scene.) 

Blake. ' W-a-t-t- 

Jim. Come on! 

Blake. Don’t holler in my ear—are you tryin’ to 

retard me ? (Coninuing signing) —e-r-s-o-n B-l- 

It’s durned near finished. Get your hat and stick, 
Jimmy, so you can get a runnin’ start. (Writes rap¬ 
idly and slaps the blotter in place. Blake folds cer- 






NOT SO FAST 61 

tificate and hands to Jim.) That’s done, and I sure 
hope we’re makin’ no mistake. 

Jim. And I promise you that in ten years’ time 
this two hundred thousand will increase to a mil¬ 
lion. (Dashes from room.) 

Blake. That’s fine. 

Mary. Thank you. I knew you had our inter¬ 
ests at heart. 

Blake. Yes, I have, and I hope all of you will 
have everything your darlin’ big sister is dreamin’ 
for you to have. 

Mary. We know that, of course, but the uncer¬ 
tainty has been wearing. 

Blake. That’s these nerve-wracking big cities. 
Down in the country it’s more placid and calmer. 
(As if idea had just come to him) And that sug¬ 
gests a plan. 

Mary. Am I in it? 

Blake. You're very near the center. 

Sylvester. Er— what of me? 

Blake. (Laughing joyously) You and Robin 
and Mary, and Rose and Kentucky, and Mother for 
chaperone, and old Abe to mix the lemonade juleps. 

Mary. I can almost imagine what you mean. 

Blake. In summer time, when the next vacation 
comes, away from the nerve-wrackin’ city to a quiet 
little place of mine in old Kentucky. 

Mary. And I could see our old home again? 

Blake. Every day. 

Mary. Is your place as near as that? 

Blake. It’s no distance at all. Grass, instead of 
concrete, ticklin’ your feet; and tennis, and a golf 
course—only nine holes, but our own. 

Robin. Wow ! 

Sylvester. Fore! 

Blake. And the whole country to ride through 
—not just a park. 

Mary. (Wistfully) I’ve not ridden for months. 


NOT SO FAST 







Blake. And canoes on a little lake —and moon¬ 
light—and all the corners swept up with clusters of 
pond lilies. 

Sylvester. (Eagerly) And you’re really invit¬ 
ing me? 

Blake. Party’s partly on your account, son. 

Sylvester. Oh, I say, that’s generous—fair field 
and no favor. (He walks over to where Rose is' 
moping.) 

Rose. (Severely) Don’t boys take themselves 
seriously! (She moves away.) 

Blake. Why, honey, wdiat’s wrong? 

Rose. Oh, nothing. 

Blake. Don’t you want to go to Kentucky? 

Rose. We may not be able to buy the tickets 
there. 

Blake. In that case, I’ll adopt the Standish chil¬ 
dren and move ’em back home permanently. 

Sylvester. I’ll take one of them, Mr. Blake. 

(Telephone rings.) 

Robin. (Answering) Who? Oh, yes, Mr. Blake. 
(Blake turns to him.) On the telephone. 

Blake. I’m on the telephone? 

Robin. Someone wants to talk to you. 

Blake. Oh! (To Rose) I’ll be right back. 
Back to earth again; and that telephone says the 
dream is over—for the present, anyway. (Takes 
receiver.) Hello. Sure, this is Blake. Why, howdy, 
Clarence. (To others pleasantly) It’s Clarence Ne- 
bro—on the other end. (Face assumes an expression 
of great concern, and voice breaks.) No! Impos¬ 
sible! Well, I’m an awful fool, but not that awful. 
Cant be possible. Is, you say? Jim hurryin’ right 
back ? Well, I’ll probably see him, then. All right. 
(Hangs ’phone up in dazed fashion and passes hand 
over forehead.) 


NOT SO FAST 


§3 

Robin. (Apprehensively) What’s wrong? 

Blake. Gosh! I certainly have balled things up 
this time. After all of Speedy’s trouble, I signed 
that stock certificate wrong, and it can’t be sold. 

Mary. Oh, dear, it isn’t possible! 

Blake. Speedy’s speedin’ back. We may make 
it yet. Why didn’t someone watch me? (Looks at 
watch.) Seven minutes to three. 

(Jim rushes in with the stock certificate in his hand. 
He is puffing from running and speaks between 
gasps. He is very angry.) 

Jim. Well, of <all the damned fool things, this is 
the limit! 

Blake. It must be. It must be. 

Mary. What is it, Jim? 

Jim. Signed his name: Henry Watterson— 

Blimp! 

Blake. Did I, honest? I can’t believe it. 

Jim. See it for yourself. (Shoves certificate un¬ 
der his nose.) Call Nebro’s, Robin, and get hold of 
Clarence. Tell him to hold an open wire to sell as 
soon as I get this stock signed correctly. 

(Robin jumps to 9 phone and puts in call.) 

Robin. Broad Five Thousand. 

Blake. Here it is, B-l-i-m-p-* See, Jim, there 

on that line—the old ship is sinkin’ fast. (Shakes 
head dolefully.) 

Jim. Here’s an eraser. Rub it out. We’ve still 
got five minutes, (Starts erasing it himself.) 

Robin. He’s on the ’phone, Jim. 

Jim. Good! Hold him there. 

Blake. (Rising) Ah —I think I can explain it. 

Jim. Next week, Blake! 

Blake. No, right now. Everybody been calling 






64 NOT SO FAST 

me Blimp—and I sorter got in habit of thinking of 
myself that way. 

Jim. Please! 

Blake. Just a minute—it’s so simple. Blake and 
Blimp both start with a b and an 1 ; after I got that 
far subconscious personality took charge of me and 
made me do the durned fool thing of my life. 

Robin. He says to hurry, only three minutes to 
sell in. 

Jim. We can make it yet. 

Blake. Don’t you think my explanation is a rea¬ 
sonable one, Mary? 

Jim. Oh, darn your explanation! (Grabs Blake 
by arm and attempts to propel him toward a chair.) 
Sit down and sign—work quickly or we’re beaten. 

Blake. (With forceful dignity) Don’t lay your 
hands on me, Jim Acton. That is one thing I don’t 
stand for. (Snatches stock certificate from his hand 
and goes to chair and sits.) And stop tryin’ to get 
me nervous. (Reverting to “dumb-bell” manner. 
Looks for pen on desk.) Somebody get me a pen. 

Jim. There’s a pen on the desk. (Blake throws 
letters and papers in air with left hand seeking to 
uncover pen. After everyone runs wildly about the 
desk looking for a pen, Jim glances at Blake’s right 
hand.) You’ve got it in your hand! 

Blake. Well, well, so I have. You’re perfectly 
right again, Jim. (Settles himself deliberately.) 

Robin. It’s three o’clock. The Stock Kxchange 
has closed. Nebro hung up, and he said to tell 

Blake- . (Walks over and whispers in Jim’s ear.) 

You tell him, Jim. I’m too young. 

Jim. (In disgust) Your restraint is marvelous. 

Blake. Three o’clock! Too late? Why didn’t 
someone tell me we didn’t have more time? 

Jim. (Collapsing in a chair) Oh, my Lord! 

Mary. Too late! 

Robin. Rammed by a Blimp! 


NOT SO FAST 


65 


Mary. Robin! I’ll not have you rude! 

Robin. Well, weren’t we? 

Rose. Try to be a gentleman, Robin, instead of 
a particularly fresh young freshman. 

Robin. Oh, rats ! It’s time for action, not polite¬ 
ness. Will Nebros give you another day, Jim? 

Jim. I suppose so, but what good would that do? 

Robin. It will do a lot of good if Sis will only say 
the word. 

Mary. What can I do? 

Robin. As soon as you marry you come into a 
third of your estate, don’t you? 

Mary. Yes. 

Robin. That’s enough to swing this deal, isn’t it? 

Mary. Yes. 

Jim. Why, that’s it, Mary; marry me right away. 

Mary. Oh, Robin! Oh, Jim! 

Rose. Robin! The idea of using your sister as 
a pawn in a stock deal! 

Robin. Shut your vocabulary! 

Blake. My stupidity should not lead you to any 
such extreme measures, Mary. If my action has 
caused you any loss, I will personally make it good. 

Jim. Yes, that sounds all right, Blimp; but it 
really doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t protect 
the future. We’ll be married right away, if you say 
so, Mary. 

Mary. I don’t know what to do. 

Rose. Sit tight and don’t do anything. 

Robin. Trust Jim, Sister. 

Blake. Wait! Please! Listen! I have delayed 
deliberately; everything I have done has been to de¬ 
lay, to hold up action until I can get a report on this 
Mexican property. I have not believed in this sud¬ 
den deal; I have not trusted the Nebros; but all sug¬ 
gestions I have made that we investigate them have 
met with such bitter opposition that I have worked 
secretly. It has taken longer than I expected. 


66 


NOT SO FAST 


Jim. I see, playing- the fool to delay while you 
poke around behind my back? 

Blake. Put it that way if you like, but, while I 
have power to prevent, the Standish money will be 
invested in no Mexican mine I do not know about. 

Mary. I’m sorry, Mr. Blake. Perhaps you 
thought you were taking the proper course, but it 
doesn’t seem so to me. 

Rose. Sister, can’t you see that Guardy has been 
trying to do what he considered best for us? 

Mary. I am afraid I can’t. 

Rose. He didn’t wish to hurt your feelings, or 
Jim’s, but he did wish to protect our interests. 

Robin. So he treated us like a group of children. 

Rose. But when he tried to do differently, Mary 
got sad, Jim indignant, and you disrespectful. 

Mary. I will try to believe he meant it for our 
good. 

Jim. But the fact remains he has probably cost 
us our opportunity. 

Rose. That is the point; no one knows yet that 
it was an opportunity, and Blimpy has been trying 
to find out without seeming to reflect on anyone’s 
judgment. 

Mary. And you knew this all the time ? 

Rose. Yes, darling; he had to tell someone- 

Mary. Oh, I see! So it is Rose, after all, who 
has your confidence. 

Rose. Don’t you understand ? Thinking that some 
day you might marry Jim, he would not cast any 
cloud on your confidence in him. 

? Mary. He wouldn’t confide in me—oh—I hope 
Pm not as gullible as I seem to myself to be. 

Blake. Mary, please- 

(Fay enters. She looks depressed and unhappy, and 
the buoyancy of her previous appearance has 
been lost.) 



NOT SO FAST 67 

Jim. (Half angry, half sarcastic) Well, little Miss 
Fixit is back, is she ? 

Fay. (Piteously) Please, Mr. Acton, I’ve had a 
hard afternoon! 

Jim. Maybe you think you’re the only one. 
Where did you get the silly idea about Miss Stan- 
dish meeting me here? 

Mary. Never mind that, Jim. 

Fay. It was only a little joke. 

Mary. A joke! 

Jim. Are you crazy? 

Fay. No, sir. I thought it would be a good joke 
on you for Mr. Blake to have a chance to see her 
while you waited at Fulton Street. 

Jim. (Furious) Oh, you did, did you? Well, 
it’s your last little joke around here! (Grasping her 

by her shoulders and turning her toward the door.) 
The door! Right away! Do you understand? 
(Gives her a shove.) 

Rose. (Horrified) Jimmy Acton! You can’t 
discharge her for that! 

Jim. Be quiet, Rose. I’m running this office, 

Blake. Not entirely, Jim. (To Fay, who has 
burst into tears and is groping her way toward the 
door.) Wait a bit, Miss Fay. 

Jim. (Angrily) See here, Blimp- 

Blake. Behave like that again and something’s 
going to propel you through that door. 

Jim. Yes? 

Blake. Yes, suh! (Sticks his face into Jim’s 
with such a fierce look on it Jim is awed.) 

Jim. Oh, well, I lost my temper. 

Blake. Don’t lose it again. Who pays the rent 
of this office, you or the Standish estate ? 

Jim. (After a moment’s hesitation) The estate. 

Blake. Who pays Miss Fothergill? You or the 
estate ? 

Jim. (Surlily) The estate does. 




68 


NOT SO FAST 


Blake. Then I have somethin’ to say about it, 
and I hereby announce that Miss Fothergill is not 
discharged. 

Jim. What? 

Blake. Until I say so ; and in this particular case 
I don’t say so. 

Fay. But, Mr. Blake- 

Blake. In telephonin’ to Miss Standish, Miss Fay 
was simply carryin’ out my instructions. 

Mary. She was ? 

Blake. I wished to see you and got Miss Fay to 
arrange it. 

Mary. (The whole situation coming to her) I 
understand at last. And everything you were tell¬ 
ing me just now was simply to waste time! 

Blake. (Taken unawares) Please, Mary, don’t 
say that. 

Mary. While you were confiding in Rose, and, 
later, when you were making me look foolish, Jim 
was waiting at Fulton Street and our plans were 
being wrecked. 

Robin. A dirty trick. You let your peculiar ideas 
interfere with your duties as a guardian and an 
administrator. 

Mary. Robin was right—Jim is the one for us 
to trust. 

Rose. Sister! 

Mary. Whenever you say, Jim. 

Jim. Fine! We’ll start for Westchester at seven 
to-night. 

Mary. All right, Jim. (Crosses to door.) 

Blake. I’ve lost you, Mary, but anger against 
me shouldn’t make you reckless about yourself as 
well as your estate. 

Fay. I just want to thank you, Mr. Blake, and 
to say I’ve quit. 

Blake. I’m sorry, Miss Fay. You did the best 
you could. 


NOT SO FAST 


69 

Fay. I tried to. A few minutes after three me 
and Clarence Nebro had a session, and I found out 
where I got off with him. When the deal fell 
through I fell through with it. I learned a few other 
things, too, and I’m through working for James B. 
Acton or any other friend of Nebro Brothers. 

Jim. What do you mean by that remark, Fay? 

Fay. (Pauses at door , then turns with an air of 
finality) Don’t press me too hard or I may tell you. 
And say, before I forget it: put a special delivery 
stamp on my pay check. (Walks haughtily out of 
the office.) 

Jim. Come, Mary. 

Blake. And, Mary, remember one thing I said: 
if the Standish estate loses by my action, I will make 
it good. 

Jim. (Crossing to Blake) I won’t forget! 

Blake. (Stung) And you remember one other 
thing, Acton! I’ve never asked to look over your 
books. I intend to do so right now. 

Jim. (Crosses to desk — angrily) Not to-day you 
won’t! 

Blake. Within an hour—now I’ve started some¬ 
thing I’m going to go right through with it. 

Jim. All right; if that is the way you feel about 

it! 

Blake. And I warn you there will be no elope¬ 
ment to-night. Just as soon as you can get back 
from taking Miss Standish home, turn those books 
over to me, or I’ll have the Surrogate seize them. 

Jim. (With disgust and anger) In that case, 
Mary, we will start for Westchester at ten to-mor¬ 
row. 

Blake. I’ll wait right here. (Sits in Jim’s chair 
and leans forward, his head in his hands, a picture of 
woe.) 

Jim. Come, Mary. 


NOT SO FAST 


(Rose goes to Blake and stands by him, a hand rest¬ 


ing on his hand.) 


Mary.. (Uneasily) Rose, we are going. 

Rose. Not I, Sister. I’m going to stick by 
Guardy Blimp. 

Mary. I’ll not allow it! 

Rose. But you're not my guardian. 

Jim. No, Rose, but I happen to be, and I order 
you to come with us. (Coming down to Rose 



Rose. I’m very disobedient. 

(Jim, disgusted, goes to door.) 




Robin. (Sternly) Come on, you poor nut! 

Rose. Not unless my senior guardian says so. 
(Blake removes one hand from his face and holds 
it out. Rose takes it and uses it to put the arm about 
her waist.) And you see, he says I am not to go. 

Robin. (Pausing at door) Some day I’m going 
to give you such a wallop! 


(Jim shrugs his shoulders in hopeless impotence , 
They go out after Mary.) 




Sylvester. I’ll stay and chaperone. (Sits in 
chair beyond desk.) 

Rose. Isn’t that like a juvenile? Well, stay, but 
I warn you: if he proposes you are going to hear 
me accept him. 

Blake. No, dear. Go with Mary. She knows 
best. 

Rose. Oh, no, no, Guardy Blimp! 

Blake. What happens to me is not important, but 
nothin’ must ever come between you and Mary. 
Take her along, Sylvester. 

Rose. Please, please, please don’t make me leave 


NOT SO FAST 


7 i 

you all alone. (Falls on knees and puts arms about 
Blake.) Don’t say I must go. 

Blake. Sylvester. 

Sylvester. (Much affected) Yes, sir. (Helps 
Rose to her feet.) Come on. We’ll catch them at 
the elevator. 

Rose. (Sobbing) I’ll never forgive Jim as long as 
I live. 

Sylvester. (Puts arm about Rose and they move 
toward door) Everything will be all right. (They 
go out.) 

Blake. (Removes telephone, puts it to ear and 
gives a start) Gracious, you answered quickly! 
Would you give me Plaza one seven four naught. 
. . . Plaza Hotel? . . . Say, this is Mr. Blake. . . . 
My full name? . . . Oh, yes—Henry Watterson 
Blake, room nine one six. I want a ticket to Louis¬ 
ville and a stateroom on the noon train to-morrow. 
Thanks. (Forgets to hang up. Talking to himself) 
I ought to be ready to go by then. (Starts.) Oh, 
that you, Central? Oh, no, I don’t want another 
number, I just forgot to hang up. I’m lonesome 
and feeling kind of sad and blue. Would you mind 
talkin’ to me just a mite? 


END OF ACT II 


ACT III 


The scene is the same as that of Act I. It is the 
morning of the day following Act II. 

Mary, disconsolately, is pacing the room slowly. 
From time to time she touches her handkerchief 
to her eyes. 

Rose comes in from back, looks at Mary with a look 
half sorrow, half amusement. 

Rose. Hello! 

Mary. Hello. (Rose goes to dictionary on desk 
and consults it. Having found her word, she closes 
the book with a bang.) You’re at it again! 

Rose. Unexpected diseases have unfamiliar names. 
Mary. (Resigned) Very well, out with it. 

Rose. Incompatibility, you and Jim housekeep¬ 
ing together. 

Mary. Rose, why do you dislike Jim so? 

Rose. I don’t, dear; honestly I don’t. It is only 
that I am so sorry for you. 

Mary. (Anxiously) I would like to talk to some¬ 
one—-someone who’d understand. 

Rose. Stop rattling your ball and chain for once, 
and treat me as a friend. 

Mary. You remember in the office yesterday- 

Rose. (Putting an arm about Mary) Jim loves 
you, if that’s what you’re worrying about. 

Mary. (Hopefully) But I was forced on him, 
partly by Robin, partly by myself. 

Rose. He has been proposing for a month. 

72 



NOT SO FAST 73 

Mary. (Hopefully) But perhaps he thought it 
was his duty. 

Rose. (Smiling aside) No, darling, he loves you 
—as much as his type can. 

Mary. (Disappointed) You may be wrong. 

Rose. That is not why I disapprove. 

Mary. No? 

Rose. You are substance, there is nothing to Jim; 
you are eternity, he is next week at the latest. 

Mary. Poor Jim, can you say nothing in his fa¬ 
vor? 

Rose. Yes ; he can dance with both feet, and 
drive a car with one hand. 

Mary. You have always been hard on him. 

Rose. Perhaps because he is so soft on himself. 
Do you really love him ? 

Mary. (Hesitating) I am very, very fond of 
him, and I’m going to marry him. 

Rose. Please, please, dear, for my sake, don’t! 

Mary. I gave my promise. 

Rose. Don’t keep it! 

Mary. (Hopefully) Would you have me break 

it? 

Rose. Into a million pieces. 

Mary. (Gloomily) I am absolutely committed. 

Rose. Then I’ll waste no more breath in argu¬ 
ment. (Picks up a box of chocolates, buries herself 
in a deep chair and begins to eat.) 

Mary. (Firmly) What happened yesterday be¬ 
fore I found you—and Mr. Blake alone? 

Rose. Don’t forget Sylvester, the chaperone. 

Mary. Answer me! 

Rose. (Coyly) Oh, Sister, I oughtn’t to have to 
tell everything. 

Mary. There should be nothing you can’t tell. 

Rose. There’s nothing I can’t tell, but whether 
you would like it is another question. 

Mary. I shall have to be the judge of that. 


74 


NOT SO FAST 


Rose. When you open your heart completely to 
me I’ll open mine to you. 

Mary. I cannot, dear. 

Rose. Then your imagination will have to sup¬ 
ply much. 

Mary. Rose, do you love Mr. Blake? 

Rose. (Striking a dramatic pose and imitating an 
emotional actress) Tenderly, deliriously, with all 
the fervor of a consuming passion. 

Mary. Rose, you are a great trial. (Looking at 
wrist watch and sighing unconsciously.) Jim will be 
here at ten; I must be ready. 

Rose. If you insist on marrying against my ad¬ 
vice, please wear something young-looking. 

Mary. Fm going to wear just what I have on. 
(Goes out slowly and dispiritedly to back.) 

(After Mary's exit Rose runs to desk telephone and 
calls.) 

Rose. (At table telephone) Plaza one seven four 
naught. . . . Room nine one six, please. . . . Morn¬ 
ing, Guardy. Watch closely now. (Blows a kiss off 
a hand into the telephone.) Did you get it? . . . 
Come right away, Guardy. Sister is immovable— 
don’t wait. If you let Jazz Acton become my in-law 
this morning, you’ll have to marry me to-morrow. 
That’ll make you hurry! (Hangs up receiver.) 

(Robin and Sylvester enter from back.) 

Robin. Well, old galloping cheese, we’re up for 
the day. 

Rose. Don’t be so facetious. 

Robin. Facetious? (To Sylvester) That’s that 
new Italian Government. 

Rose. Disgusting young pigs! Wallowing in bed 
until this time. Boys are just too depraved! 


NOT SO FAST 


75 

Robin. Oh, rats! What do girls know about the 
amount of rest required by a man? 

Sylvester. We are building up our strength for f 

the day when we’ll have families to support. (Throws 
out his chest and flexes arms.) 

Rose. (Crossing to Sylvester) You’re prepar¬ 
ing a long time in advance for a very problematical 
eventuality. 

Sylvester. (Admiringly) Gosh! 

Robin. (Sneeringly) Bosh! 

Rose. And you, Robin, sacrificing your sister to 
your low financial schemes, and then lying in bed 
instead of getting up early to help give her courage 
for the ordeal. 

Robin. Don’t talk foolishness. 

Rose. The idea of wanting Jazz Acton for a 
brother-in-law! 

Robin. He’ll be a great one. Jim’s about as good 
as they make them. 

Rose. He drinks too much, jazzes too much, 
sleeps too little, and the Lord knows what sort of a 
life he leads. 

Robin. “Single men in barracks don’t grow into 
plaster saints”- 

Sylvester. Kipling ? 

Robin. No, Elinor Glynn! 

Rose. Disgusting! 

Robin. But Jim’s all right and marriage will 
settle him. 

Rose. Or Sister. 

Robin. Sowing a little wild oats in your youth is 
just a sign of vitality and excess energy. Gaze on 
yonder sheik! 

Rose. What do you think of it, Sillie? (Sits on 
davenport.) 

Sylvester. Do I have to answer? 

Rose. Of course you do. 

Sylvester. (Unhappily) Well, I like Jim. 


76 NOT SO FAST 

Rose. Do you think he’s a suitable man for Sis¬ 
ter? 

Sylvester. I don’t see why not. 

Rose. Do you think he’s a suitable man for me? 

Sylvester. (Impulsively) Oh, no! 

Rose. (Angrily) What! He’s not good enough 
for me, but you are willing for my sister to marry 
him? 

Sylvester. Yes—no- 

Rose. (Up from davenport and Sylvester fol¬ 
lows her around hack, trying to explain) Oh—I 
never heard anything worse! 

Sylvester. Robin, you know what I meant! 

Robin. (In amused cynicism, moving toward the 
door) Dig yourself out, you poor sap! (Laughs 
sarcastically and goes out at hack.) 

Sylvester. You know what I meant. 

Rose. You’re utterly selfish, like all boys. (Sits 
on davenport.) They’re too disgusting until they 
grow up. 

Sylvester. I’m not selfish. I’m in love. Can’t 
you see that? 

Rose. Gracious! Am I supposed to be blind ? 

Sylvester. Can’t you be a little kind to me for 
the rest of my stay? 

Rose. Now see here, Sillie, just because you’ve 
got to go back to your little freshman books, don’t 
expect sympathy to unhinge my mind. 

Sylvester. You’re awful cruel! 

Rose. You are not going away forever. 

Sylvester. Then I can hope? Please say I can 
hope. 

Rose. For heaven’s sake! (Rises and moves over 
to large wing chair.) 

Sylvester. (Following and sitting on foot-stool) 
Don’t say I can’t hope! 

Rose. The right to hope is guaranteed by the Con¬ 
stitution of the United States. 



NOT SO FAST 


77 


Sylvester. Then I can hope ? 

Rose. Of course, go ahead and hope. 

Sylvester. Then there is some chance for me? 

Rose. You’re getting a long way ahead of hope. 

Sylvester. Please say there is some chance for 
me. 

Rose. (Seriously) Listen, Sylvester. If Sister 
marries Jim, I’m going to marry Blimpy. In that 
event we’ll adopt you. If she doesn’t, Blimpy won’t 
be able to see me. In that case I’m going to have a 
real good time until I decide to get married. If 
you’re grown by then, and the dew lifts, and I don’t 
find among the millions of attractive men someone 
I like better, I’ll talk it over with you. (Rises and 
moves to center.) 

Sylvester. So you are going to get married? 
( Rises.) 

Rose. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. 

Sylvester. Well, that’s something. 

Rose. I’m going to get married and- (She 

pauses.) 

Sylvester. (Eagerly ) Yes ? 

Rose. I forgot I had an audience! But I will 
say this: if I overlook anything in this life that a 
normal, fairly nice woman can do, it will be because 
my health fails or I die young! 

Sylvester. (Enthusiastically) That’s the talk. 

Rose. Guardy says that, as far as he knows, we 
go through this world one time only, and that it’s a 
reasonable guess this is that time. 

Sylvester. Watt Blake isn’t such a fool. 

Rose. Sylvester Vane, your intellect certainly 
needs a lot of effort expended on it! 

(Jim enters. He carries a cap.) 

Jim. (Happily) Good morning. No lagging 
bridegroom here. 


78 


NOT SO FAST 


Rose. Tell Sister, Syl, and Robin, and come back 
yourself. (Sylvester goes out back.) 

Jim. Great day for a wedding, Rose. 

Rose. Postpone the wedding, Jim. 

Jim. And give The Blimp a chance to get ahead? 
I should say not! 

Rose. If he can do it; if Sister cares that little 
for you, it will be the best in the end. 

Jim. Til not take the chance. There's some qual¬ 
ity about that awkward old airship that makes women 
foolish about him. 

Rose. Maybe it's honesty. 

Jim. No, it’s their maternal instinct. He looks 
and acts so much like a big baby that they treat him 
accordingly. 

Rose. Wait a week, Jim. If Sister is still will¬ 
ing to marry you, then I’ll say no more. 

Jim. No, Rose, to-day is the day. 

Rose. Three days, Jim? 

Jim. We start for Westchester at ten. 

Rose. You do no such thing! 

Jim. Now see here, Rose. I am not without very 
definite authority over you, and I think you have 
gone a little too far. 

Rose. When Jazz Acton can frighten me, then 
call me coward! (Crosses to right center.) 

Jim. I warn you. 

Rose. And I you! There may be a wedding to¬ 
day ; but there will be some sadder and wiser persons 
before it takes place. 

Jim. What is the infant terrible going to do? 

Rose. Anything necessary—and, I warn you, I’ll 
stop at nothing! 

(Mary enters from back, followed by Robin and by 
Sylvester. She is flushed and excited, but un¬ 
certain and distressed.) 


NOT SO FAST 


79 

Jim. (Kissing her hand) Good morning to the 
bride! 

Mary. Good morning, Jim. 

Jim. The Mayor of New Rochelle, with our mar¬ 
riage license and a minister, will be waiting for us 
in the Westchester Biltmore, and Tve ordered a band 
and a wedding breakfast. 

Mary. That will make it so public, Jim. 

Jim. I want the whole world to know about it. 

Rose. Especially his creditors. 

Robin. What a rotten, unjust remark! 

Jim. Oh, that’s all right, Robin. Come along, 
dear. 

Rose. Please, Sister, wait a few days. There is 
no hurry. 

Mary. I left the time to Jim and he has chosen. 

Sylvester. He’ll delay if you say so, Miss Stan- 
dish. 

Robin. Of all the turn-coats! So Rose won you 
over ? 

Sylvester. She is right. Things like this oughtn’t 
to be done impulsively. 

Mary. (Hopefully) What do you say, Jim? 

Jim. There’s no time like the present. You’ll 
be a witness, Robin? 

Robin. Of course I will. 

Rose. Oh, Sister, wait for Guardy. He’s on his 
way here—to say good-bye. He’s starting back to 
Kentucky at noon. 

Mary. I think we should, Jim. 

Jim. Arabella can say good-bye for the family. 

Rose. You owe it to Guardy to wait for him, 
dear. 

Mary. I’d like to, Jim. I wasn’t very nice to him 
yesterday. 

Jim. What did he deserve? 

Mary. Well, I realize now that he was right, as 


8 o NOT SO FAST 


he saw it; I'm sorry for the way I acted and I'd like 
to apologize. 

Jim. Oh, you can write him and explain all of 
that. Come, dear, we can’t wait. 

Mary. (Sadly) Oh, all right. 

Rose. You don’t think I am going? 

Mary. Rose, you’ll not let me be married with¬ 
out you ? 

Rose. If you marry to-day, you marry without 
my approval, without my presence. 

Mary. Rose, why are you obstinate? You know 
I’ve never broken a promise in my life. Please come 
with me, dear. 

Rose. Not to-day, Sister. 

Jim. (Taking Mary’s arm) Oh, come, dear. 


(Rose runs to Mary and puts her arms about her.) 


Rose. I shall have to be removed by force first! 

Robin. That’s easy. (Advances upon her.) 

Sylvester. Just a minute, Robin. Put a finger 
on her and you’ll answer to me. (Crosses to 
Robin.) 

Robin. This is a family affair, Syl. Kindly keep 
out of it. 

^Sylvester. That’s exactly why I want to get into 

Jim. Take her away, Robin; if Vane is fool 
enough to insist on being thrashed, I’ll thrash him. 


(Robin advances on Rose. Sylvester prepares to 
take his thrashing. All raise their voices in ex¬ 
cited exclamations. The door opens. Blake 
steps in and surveys the noisy group.) 

Blake. Well, sounds like an old-home week in 
Kilkenny. (He is quite calm and unruffled. He is 
the embodiment of confidence and strength and has 
shed entirely the simple pose of his preceding appear- 


NOT SO FAST 


81 


Rose. Oh, Guardy, I did all I could to stop them. 
They were just going to leave. 

Blake. Why leave? 

Rose. To get married. 

Blake. But there is no hurry. 

Robin. Well, well put through that Mexican deal 
yet. 

Blake. Fm afraid not. The stock offered by 
the Nebros has been sold. 

Robin. When? 

Blake. Late last night. 

Robin. We’ve lost out—thanks to a blunderer! 

Mary. Robin! 

Rose. Did Jim know about the sale? 

Blake. Yes. 

Rose. (Crossing to Jim) Then your haste to get 
married is unnecessary. 

Mary. You knew ? Why didn’t you tell me, Jim ? 

Jim. I had forgotten all about it. My desire to 
marry you is not regulated by any such sordid finan¬ 
cial considerations. 

Mary. You should have told me. 

Blake. I heard from my friend in Mexico City 
at seven last night, by long distance. He said that 
with stability in Mexico the minin’ investment should 
be a splendid one. 

Jim. There you are! What did I tell you? 
Nebro said it was a good thing. 

Blake. I wonder if he meant it was a good thing 
or you, Jim? The stock you were willing to pay 
two hundred thousand dollars for, sold last night in 
Mexico City for forty thousand. 

Robin. (Coldly) Forty thousand? Looks to me, 
Jim, as if your Nebro friends were out to sting us. 

Mary. And we would have paid thousands too 
much? 

Blake. Yes. 


82 NOT SO FAST 

Jim. Well, I never thought the Nebros would 
sting me. I 

Robin. That was a very tempting amount of 
profit. 

Rose. Who bought the stock? 

Jim. A man in Mexico City named Avery. 

Rose. Guardy’s friend! (Claps hand over 
mouth.) 

Jim. (Astounded) Oh! Your agent? 

Blake. Well, the truth of the matter is, yes. 

Jim. Oh, I see. So as soon as you found out 
the stock was good and you could buy it cheaply you 
bought it? 

Blake. Yes, that’s just it. 

Robin. Wouldn’t consider it for your wards, but 
buy it for yourself ! 

Blake. (Coldly and incisively) If you speak to 
me like that again, I’m goin’ to give you a dunied 
good spankin’, and I’ll administer that spankin’ in the 
spot where spankin’s are generally spanked ! (Gaz¬ 

ing at Robin an instant. Robin gasps, starts to 
speak, hut sees Blake's expression and changes his 
mind.) 

Rose. Give it to him on credit, Guardy! 

Robin. Oh, shut up! 

Blake. What’s that? (Turns to Robin and 
walks him to hack of davenport. Then comes down 
right.) I made two very important discoveries in 
my examination of the estate books. 

Jim. You’ll admit the books were all right? 

Blake. . Oh, perfect — they balance to a penny. I 
have nothing but admiration for your bookkeeping. 

Jim. Thanks, that’s something. (Sits on right of 
davenport.) 

Blake. I found out the estate had thirty thou¬ 
sand dollars in cash, so I borrowed ten thousand 
more for it and purchased the securities for the es¬ 
tate. 


NOT SO FAST 


83 


Rose. There you are! That’s finance! 

Jim. Oh, yes; very clever, Blimp, and a great 
play for glory ; but if you’ve taken any money out 
of the Standish estate without my O.K. you are in 
bad. Of course you know that. 

Robin. He’s just bought for forty thousand 
what you wanted to pay two hundred for. 

Jim. That stands, all right, but I want it under¬ 
stood that I have to be consulted regarding the 
Standish estate. 

Blake. That’s the second thing, Jim. In none 
of the records could I find that you have ever been 
appointed an executor. I examined the Surrogate’s 
records and you never have been. You’ve deceived 
not only me, but also the Standish heirs. 

Mary. Jim, is this true? 

Jim. (Temporarily stunned, then recovering his 
confidence) Yes, dear, it is. You see, Dad died 
so suddenly he had no time to designate a successor, 
but I knew his wishes, and, well, my heart was so 
thoroughly committed to your interests, that I did as 
I knew he would want me to do, and announced my 
appointment. Nobody questioned it. You believe 
me, don’t you ? 

Mary. I believe you meant it for our good. 

Rose. (Coming down to Acton) And for the 
extensive fees the estate has paid him! 

Blake. (Crossing to Rose) Never mind that, 
Rosita. Just try and remember that I’m conducting 
these proceedings. 

Rose. Yes, Guardy Blimp. (Rose hows, hacking 
to chair. Sylvester hows and stumbles over foot 
stool.) 

Blake. Under Mr. Standish’s will it devolved on 
me to appoint a successor to Judge Acton. I have 
done so, and the appointment has been confirmed by 
the Surrogate. 

Jim. (Hopefully) Whom? (Rising.) 



84 


NOT SO FAST 


Blake. Mary Standish. 

Mary. I! Oh, dear, why? 

Blake. You are now an equal executor with me, 
and when you desire to assert yourself, I shall gladly 
yield. 

Mary. I’ll never insist on anything you advise 
against. 

Blake. Good. And you need not marry now, as 
a duty to the children. You can take your time 
about marrying, and, instead of a hurry-up runaway 
affair, you can now have a calm, dignified wedding. 

Jim. Oh, come, dear, the minister is waiting. We 
can't wait. 

Blake. Don’t be so unreasonable, Jim. 

Jim. Of course you’d think it unreasonable. 

Blake. (Significantly) I am leaving for Ken¬ 
tucky at once. 

Jim. There’s nothing to stop you from coming 
back again. Come, Mary. (Starts to go.) 

Robin. (Coming down in Jim’s path) Not so 
fast, Jim. There’s no use being so impulsive now. 

Rose. (Horrified) Guardy! You’re not going 
to let them ? 

Blake. I’ve done all that I can, Rosita. 

Rose. You haven’t, either. (Whispers in his ear. 
He shakes his head.) You couldn’t love her and stop 
at anything. 

Jim. Look here, Rose! What the devil are you 
talking about? 

Rose. For the last time, Jim, I warn you: Wait 
a week, or I shall have to tell a few things on you 
which don’t sound well. 

Jim. When we get back. (Starts toward the 
door.) 

Robin. Wait a minute, Jim. If Rose has any¬ 
thing on her chest, getting it off won’t hurt. 

Jim. Now look here, Robin. My life has been an 
open book. 



NOT SO FAST 85 

Robin. Yes, but Rose seems to think she’s read 
some interesting pages. 

Rose. (Crossing to Robin and Jim blocks her) 
Don’t get too cocky, Robin, you may figure in your¬ 
self. 

Robin. Go to it, you poor pelican! 

Blake. Sylvester, would you mind not stayin’? 

Sylvester. No, sir; I think I’d prefer it. (Goes 
out, embarrassed, to back.) 

Rose. (Crossing to Robin and Mary) First. 
Jim promised Robin a new car if the deal went 
through. That is why Robin was so enthusiastic. 

Robin. (Indigmntly) It wasn’t! 

Rose. He did promise you a new car, didn’t he? 

Robin. Well, yes, he did ; but I was for the deal 
anyway on what he told me. 

Jim. (Laughing, but somewhat uneasily) Dear 
me, is that all? Yes, I did promise Robin a new 
car. I meant it would be possible to give him one 
on account of the increased income, and I knew that 
Mary was most anxious for him to have one. 

Mary. Of course I was, and had often told Jim 
so. 

Rose. And it doesn’t sound to you like bribery? 

Mary. No, Rose, it does not. 

Rose. (Crossing to Blake) How about you, 
Guardy Blimp? 

Blake. You’re handling things now, Rosita. 

Rose. If you knew, Jim, that Fay Fothergill is 
waiting in my room, would you have any misgiv¬ 
ings ? 

Jim. (Startled) Is she? 

Rose. If she is, would you? 

Mary. Rose, don’t be ridiculous. 

Rose. If I’m ridiculous, blame Nature, and know 
that nothing can be done about it. 

Jim. (Bravely) Well, I suggest you bring on 
your accomplice. 


86 


NOT SO FAST 


Rose. But suppose she says the Nebros were to 
allow you a commission if you sold their stock to our 
estate, what then? 

Robin. Gosh! 

Jim. (Hesitatingly—he is having a mental struggle 
and starts to speak out, hut changes his mind) She’ll 
not say so. 

Rose. And why not? 

Jim. (Again the mental struggle resulting as be¬ 
fore) Because—it isn’t so. 

(Rose crosses to ring bell.) 

Rose. Shall we invite her in ? What do you say, 
Jim? 

Jim. By all means. 

(Rose pushes bell. Goes up left to door.) 

Rose. (Arabella enters) Miss Fothergill, 
please. (Arabella runs out.) 

Jim. (Making his decision) She is angry with 
me for discharging her and vindictive against Ne¬ 
bros. Let her come in and tell her lies, and then we 
can get rid of her. What do you say, Blimp? 

Blake. If she’s lying, let’s have no more to do 
with her. 


(Fay comes in on the run.) 

Fay. On the job! Miss Fixit is back again! 
Rose. Oh, it’s noble of you to help, Fay. Just 
because Guardy won’t use what you told him is no 
reason why I won’t. 

Fay. Mr. Blake just wouldn’t let me help. 

Rose. Foolish old sweetie! 


NOT SO FAST 87 

Fay. I said to him, “In love, it’s results that 
count, methods are just details.” 

Jim. You know, Fay, I think we could get along 
without your interference. 

Fay. Fve got no animosity against you, Mr. 
Acton, though another remark like that and I will 
have. 

Rose. You go right ahead, Fay. 

Fay. That’s what I intend to do. This isn’t pleas¬ 
ant, so suppose I hurry ? 

Mary. Will you, please? 

Fay. Well, Mr. Clarence Nebro telephoned me 
yesterday morning to tell Mr. Acton he would put 
the deal on a fifty-fifty basis. I didn’t know what 
it meant, but later, at lunch, he told me that he was 
giving Mr. Acton fifty per cent, of the profit. 

Robin. That’s eighty thousand dollars! No won¬ 
der he promised me a new car! 

Mary. Oh, Jim, say that isn’t true! 

Jim. (Swallowing hard) Of course it isn’t true. 

Rose. Why should she say it, then? 

Jim. Because she’s angry with me for discharg¬ 
ing her, she’s vindictive against Nebros, and she’s 
lying. 

Fay. I told Mr. Blake about it last night, but he 
said he couldn’t use the information. 

Jim. Naturally; he doesn’t want to figure in a 
criminal libel suit. 

Fay. He didn’t say he didn’t believe me. He 
didn’t insult me or call me a liar. 

Jim. No, you weren’t libeling him. 

(Fay moves to hack of davenport.) 

Rose. (Crosses to Blake) Do you believe her, 
Guardy ? 

Blake. Now, Rose. 


88 


NOT SO FAST 


Mary. This is no time for mistaken chivalry. 

Robin. You are our guardian, sir. 

Rose. At last you’ve found that out. 

Blake. (To Jim) Have I your release from the 
restrictions of convention? 

Jim. (Weakly) Go ahead. 

Blake. I thought Fay might be mistaken, so I 
asked Clarence Nebro. 

Mary. What did he say? 

Blake. He denied it- 

Jim. There you are. 

Blake. At first. But I kinder hinted I had 
crowded Acton out, and that if the reports were true 
about the split in profit, and the deal was still open, 
there might be a chance to do business with me. 
What Fay has said is entirely truthful. I’m sorry, 
’cause I like Jim. 

Mary. (Covering her face with her hands) Oh, 
Jim—Jim- 

Robin. (Crossing to Jim) Well, of all the 
damned bits of villiany! 

Blake. Now you keep quiet, and go to your 
room! 


(Robin starts for door at right.) 

Rose. And ponder over the new car you were to 
have, and maybe you won’t feel so superior! 

Robin. Oh, go fix your back hair! (Robin goes 
out.) 

Jim. Well, are you avenged now, Fay? 

Fay. (Crossing to Acton) It wasn’t vengeance, 
Mr. Acton, it was my conscience that bothered me. 
Anyway, I wasn’t hired to work for you. I was 
hired by the Standish estate. (Fay raises her head 
in triumph and crosses to door at right.) Good-bye, 
everybody else ! (Goes out.) 


NOT SO FAST 89 

Blake. It was Fay’s husband who insisted she 
tell all she knew. 

Rose. Her husband ? 

Blake. Yes. He runs a delicatessen store on 
Manhattan Avenue—Schnipff, Emil Schnipff. They 
were married last night, and called on me immedi¬ 
ately after their wedding. 

Jim. (Starting for door) Well, I guess I’ll be 
going. (Blake stops him, with hand on arm.) 

Blake. Not yet, Jim. I wish you hadn’t mixed 
yourself up in this, but I don’t think you really 
thought how bad it was going to look. 

Jim, No, I don’t think I did. 

Blake. Can’t you say somethin’ to Miss Mary 
to make it less hard for her ? 

Rose. Oh, poor old Guardy! (She looks at him 
and shakes her head in affectionate puzzlement.) 

Blake. I’m leavin’ for Kentucky. I can always 
be reached. 

Mary. (Offering hand) I’ll refer everything to 
you. 

Blake. Thanks. (Takes Mary’s hand, kisses it, 
and starts for door.) 

Rose. (Crossing to Blake) I’ll go to the ele¬ 
vator with you. 

Blake. Rose, say good-bye to Robin and Sylves¬ 
ter for me, and tell them I’m sorry about that party 
we had planned for in Kentucky. (Goes out with 
Rose, their arms about each other's waists. Mary 
watches dumbly.) 

Jim. Mary. (She does not hear. Louder) 
Mary! 

Mary. Yes, Jim. 

Jim. (Back of davenport) Well, of course, there 
isn’t much I can say. I was wrong—how wrong 
I’ve only just realized. My instinct should have kept 
me clear. 



9 o NOT SO FAST 

Mary. Oh, Jim, I’d give anything if you hadn’t 
done this! 

Jim. (Going to Mary) Oh, it wasn’t you I was 
trying to deceive, dear, but Blake. I thought he was 
just a figurehead and stupid and—well, I resented 
his control of your estate. I know that sounds like 
a rotten excuse now, but really, dear, it’s true. 

Mary. It amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it ? 

Jim. (Crossing to center of davenport) Why, 
yes—yes, of course, it does. But you see, Mary, for 
some time I thought that we were to be married and 
that I would take care of the family, and I was just 
trying to get some of your money from under Blake’s 
conservative control to put in some wonderful in¬ 
vestments I had in mind for you. (Crossing once 
more to Mary for forgiveness.) Everything sounded 
so dreadful just now, dear—my back was up against 
the wall. I didn’t know how to explain it, or what 
to say, or what to do. Can’t you understand and 
can’t you forgive? (Mary walks away from him. 
He turns and starts for door. Rose re-enters. Jim 
turns once more to speak) Of course, Mary, I re¬ 
lease you completely and I- 

Rose. Jim, spare her any more now. She has 
been under a heavy strain since yesterday. 

Jim. Yes, yes, of course. I’ll go. (Starts for 
door.) 

Mary. (Offering her hand) Jim, au revoir. 

(Jim takes Mary’s hand . His emotion is too great 
for him to speak. He kisses her hand and goes 
out. Sylvester comes in quickly, followed by 
Robin.) 

Sylvester. (Humbly) I want you all to know 
I’m the biggest ass in the world. Like an ass I 
wrote home to Mother my childish jeers at Watt 
Blake. (Exhibiting the letter he carries.) I’ve just 
had her reply. 



NOT SO FAST 


9 i 


Mary. She —doesn’t—agree with you? 

Sylvester. Not in anything. I’m particularly 
sorry over my fool story about the estate Mr. Blake 
bid against Dad for. It was your old home. I 
didn’t know. 

Mary. It was he who bought it ? 

Rose. Oh, isn’t it wonderful? 

Sylvester. There’s a lot more in it that makes 
me feel about five or six years old. Maybe if I live 
long enough, I’ll grow up some day. (Handing 
Mary the letter.) I wish you’d read it, Miss Stan- 
dish, and please remember I’m only a freshman as 
yet. 

Rose. Sylvester, I want you to know I think 
you’ve been noble to read the letter. 

Mary. Well, I don’t think so much of this guar¬ 
dian of ours. 

Rose. Why, Mary, what is it? 

Mary. Well, he’s so anxious to get back to his 
old Kentucky—and he’s perfectly willing for me to 
marry Jim. 

Rose. Poor dear! Don’t you see that Blimpy 
knows that you could never again rely on anyone 
who tries to take advantage of your two children? 
(Linking arms with Robin.) 

Mary. I wish I had your intuition, Rose. 

Rose. Maybe you have, and just don’t suspect it. 
And I want to tell you this : Unless you can figure 
out some way of saying “Yes” to Guardy within the 
next week or two, I’m positively going to marry him 
myself! 

Sylvester. You’re much too young! 

Rose. Just the same, it’s all arranged, and we 
are going to raise a family of just any number of 
little airships! 

Sylvester. Please take him, Miss Mary. 

Robin. (Laughing sarcastically) If you can’t 
beat your competitors, bury ’em, eh ? 


92 


NOT SO FAST 


Sylvester. He’s a prince! 

Robin. With a place in Kentucky. You better 
think it over, Sis. 

Rose. At last you’re giving some good advice. 

Robin. I’m man enough to acknowledge my mis¬ 
takes. 

Rose. Especially if you can figure out some ad¬ 
vantage for yourself. 

Robin. Oh, why is it a criminal offense to hit a 
woman! (Jumps toward Rose. Sylvester blocks 

him.) 

Mary. Please leave me alone, I can’t think. (She 
sits in chair in front of fireplace.) 

Rose. Out with you, Freshman! I’ll make her 
comfortable. (Puts cushions at her back.) 

Mary. Such attention! 

Rose. Pleasant thoughts, darling. 

Mary. There is no chance of that, child. 

Rose. If you want me, I’ll be in my room. 

(Mary leans back and closes her eyes. Rose waves 
to boys and they tiptoe back; she puts finger to 
nose and giggles inaudibly. Boys stand at door 
silently watching. Rose opens door to hall and 
draws Blake in. She makes words to him in 
the sign language and then tiptoes out behind 
the boys. Blake stands irresolute for a few 
moments, then tiptoes behind Mary’s chair and 
gently puts his hands against her hair.) 

Mary. Rose ? 

Blake. By any other name! 

Mary. Oh, I thought you had gone! 

Blake. No, Rose told me to hang around a little 
while. She said: “Blimpy, if you’ll hang around I’ll 
send up a few trial balloons.” 

Mary. I don’t know what I can say. 

Blake. Don’t say anything—except that you’ll 


NOT SO FAST 


93 

marry me. (After pause.) Oh, go on and marry 
me! 

Mary. Oh, dear! 

Blake. I’m goin’ to be awful good to you, Mary. 
Mary. I know it, and to think I’ll never have to 
worry about the children any more. 

Blake. No; not the Standish children. 


CURTAIN 


BILLETED, 

J [ comedy rn 3 acts, by F. Tennison Jesse and H. Harwood. 4 
es, 5 females. One easy interior seer a. • A charming comedy, 
constructed with uncommon skill, and abounds with clever lines. 
Margaret Anglin’s big success. Amateurs win find this comedy easy 
to produce and popular with all audiences. Price, 60 Cents. 


NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

A comedy in 3 acts. By Tames Montgomery. 5 males, i female®. 
Costumes, modern. Two interior scenes. Plays 2j4 hours. 

Is it possible to tell the absolute truth—even for twenty-four hours? 
It is—at least Bob Bennett, the hero of “Nothing But the Truth,’ 8 
accomplished the feat. The bet he made with his business partners, 
and the trouble he got into—with his partners, his friends, and his 
fiancee—this is the subject of William Collier’s tremendous comedy 
hit. “Nothing But the Truth” can be whole-heartedly recommended 
as one of the most sprightly, amusing and popular comedies that this 
country boast. Price* 60 Cent©, 


IN WALKED JIMMY. 

A comedy in 4 acts, by Minnie Z. Jaffa. 10 males, 2 females (al¬ 
though any number of males and females may be used as clerks, 
etc.). Two interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 2^2 hours. 
The thing into which Jimmy walked was a broken-down stioe factory, 
when the clerks had all been fired, and when the proprietor was in 
serious contemplation of suicide. 

Jimmy, nothing else but plain Jimmy, would have been a mysterious 
figun had it not been for his matter-of-fact manner, his smile and 
his everlasting humanness. He put the shoe business on its feet, won 
the heart of the girl clerk, saved her erring brother from jail, escaped 
that place as a uermanent boarding house himself, and foiled the 
villain. 

Clean, wholesome comedy with just a touch of human nature, just 
a dash of excitement . and more than a little hit of true philosophy 
make “In Walked Jimmy” one rf the most . delightful of plays. 
Jimmy is full of the religion of life, the religion of happiness and 
the religion of helpfulness, and he so permeates the atmosphere with 
his “religion” that everyone is happy. The spirit of optimism, good 
cheer, and hearty laughter dominates the play. There is net a dull 
moment in any of the four acts. We strongly recommend it. 

Price, 60 Cents. 


MARTHA BY-THE-DAY. 

An optimistic comedy in three acts, by Julie M. Lippmann, author 
m the “Martha” stories. 5 males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. 
Costumes modern. Plays 2j,j hours. 

It is altogether a gentle thing, this play. It is full of quaint hu¬ 
mor, old-fashioned, homely sentiment, the kind that people who see 
the play will recall and chuckle over to-morrow and the next day. 

Miss Lippmann has herself adapted her very successful book for 
stage service, and in doing this has selected from her novel the most 
telling incidents, infectious comedy and homely sentiment for the 
play, and the result is thoroughly delightful. Price, 60 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 


SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 Wei t 38th Street. New York City 

*wl Exploit fisHriptira Catalogue MM fm m ItaptH 




The Charm School 

A fascinating 1 comedy in three- acts by Aiiee Duer Miit» 
«r and Robert 'Milton. 6 males, 10 females. (May b© 
played by 5 males and 8 females). Any number of school 
girls may be used in the ensembles. Scenes, two inter¬ 
iors. Costumes, modern. Plays 2 y 2 hours. 

Th© story of “The Charm School” is familiar t© Mrs. 
Miller’s readers. It relates the adventures of a hand¬ 
some young automobile salesman scarcel 3 r out ©f his 
’teens who, upor inheriting a girl’s boarding school from 
a maiden aunt, insists on running it himself, according to 
his own ideas, chief of which is, by the way, that the 
dominant feature in the education of the young girl of 
today should be CHARM. 

The situations that arise are teeming with humor— 
clean, wholesome humor.' In the end the young man 
gives up the school and promises to wait until the most 
precocious of- his pupils reaches a marriageable age. 

“The Charm School” has the freshness of youth, the 
inspiration of an extravagant but novel idea, the charm 
of originality, and the promise of wholesome, sanely 
amusing, pleasant entertainment. We strongly recom¬ 
mend it for high school production. 

“The Charm School” was first produced at the Bijou 
Theatre, New York, and then toured the country. Two 
companies are now playing it in England. Price, 75 cents. 

Long-Legs §n| 

A charming comedy in four acts, by Jean Webs* 1 -- , 
The full cast calls for 6 males, 7 females and 6 orphans, 
but the play, by the easy doubling of some of the char¬ 
acters 'may be played by 4 males, 4 females and three 
orphans. The orphans appear only in the first act and 
may. be played by small girls of any age. Four easy 
interior scenes. Costumes modern.. Plays 2% hours. 

The New York Times reviewer, on the morning fol¬ 
lowing the Broadway production, wrote the following 
comment: 

“If you will take your pencil and write down., one be¬ 
low the other, the words delightful, charming, sweet, 
beautiful and entertaining, and then draw a line and' 
add them up, the answer will be ‘Daddy Long-Le‘gs.’- 
To that' result you might even add brilliant, pathetic 
and humorous, but the answer even then would be just 
what it was before—the play which Miss Jean Webster 
has mahe from her book, ‘Daddy Long-Legs,’ and which 
was presented at the Gaiety last night. To attempt to 
describe the simplicity and beauty of ‘Daddy LongrLegs’ 1 
woii'd be like attempting to describe the first breath o* 
Spring after an exceedingly tiresome and hard Winter.” 

“Daddy Long-Legs” enjoyed a two-years’ run in New 
York and then touted for over three years, and is 

now published in play form for the first time. 

Price, 75 cents. 

('The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 


SAMVEL FRENCH, 28-30 Wc-«t 38th Street, New York 
New and Explicit, Descriptive Catalogue Mailed 
Free on Request 






FRENCH’S 

Standard Library Edition 


CW« Fitch 
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R. C. Carton 
Alfred Sutro 
Richard Harding Dari® 

Sir Arthur W. Piaar® 
Anthony Hope 
Oscar Wilde 
Haddon Chambers 
Jerom® K. Jerome 
Cosmo Gordon Losutex 
H. V. Esmond 
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Arthur Law 
Rachel Crothers 
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Includes Plays by 

Booth Tarkingtoa 
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Wra. C. de Mill© 

R©i Cooper Megrue 
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Henry Bernstein 
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Ckanning Polloek 
Harry Durant 
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French’s International Copyrighted Edition 
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Send a four-cent stamp for o«r new catadsgitt 
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SAMUEL FRENCH 

OWes* PW PuMMur is *e WkU 
38-|8 Was* 38th Street, BSW YORK Cyig, 


















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